Whirled Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
the-passionate-heart-poet-is-whirled-into-folly-vice-alfred-lord-tennyson
look-at-me-she-demanded-he-whirled-around-held-out-his-arms-what-do-you-want-me-to-say-aye-im-dragon-donna-grant
in-april-1882-my-father-died-and-i-was-at-once-whirled-out-of-my-land-of-dreams-into-a-very-different-sphere
in-april-1882-my-father-died-i-was-at-once-whirled-out-my-land-dreams-into-different-sphere
and-to-see-white-flash-klauss-eyes-as-he-whirled-on-her-for-one-stunned-instant-she-stared-at-him-then-lightning-crackled-from-empty-sky-lj-smith
i-have-need-silence-starstoo-much-is-said-too-loudly-i-am-dazedthe-silken-sound-whirled-infinityis-lost-in-voices-shouting-to-be-heard-william-alexander-percy
but-you-cant-plead-with-autumn-no-the-midnight-wind-stalked-through-woods-hooted-to-frighten-you-swept-everything-away-for-approaching-winter-whirled-leaves-the-north-yevgeny-zam
but-o-sick-children-worldof-all-many-changing-thingsin-dreary-dancing-past-us-whirledto-cracked-tune-that-chronos-singswords-alone-are-certain-william-butler-yeats
a-few-feathery-flakes-are-scattered-widely-through-air-hover-downward-with-uncertain-flight-now-almost-alighting-on-earth-now-whirled-again-aloft-into-remote-regions-atmosphere-n
and-starward-drifts-stricken-world-lone-in-unalterable-gloom-dead-with-universe-for-tomb-dark-to-vaster-darkness-whirled-the-testimony-suns-george-sterling
and-bell-jangled-driver-started-the-bus-whirled-off-to-last-stop-lonely-room-lonely-night-brian-moore
in-fierce-march-weather-white-waves-break-tether-and-whirled-together-at-either-hand-like-weeds-uplifted-the-treetrunks-rifted-in-spars-are-drifted-algernon-charles-swinburne
it-takes-us-away-from-world-strangers-to-new-world-laughter-with-time-whirled-churning-deep-inside-and-why-does-smile-fades-as-age-passes-dr-chitra-navada
i-am-tired-tired-being-being-whirled-on-through-all-these-phases-my-life-in-which-nothing-abides-by-me-no-creature-no-place-it-is-like-circle-in-which-victims-earthly-passion-edd
running-her-fingers-on-scales-she-sighs-i-wonder-what-its-like-to-be-human-why-wont-you-just-go-find-out-question-startled-her-she-whirled-around-to-come-face-to-face-with-her-ev
he-whirled-in-water-grinned-at-me-damn-he-was-handsome-bastard-i-realized-he-was-halfnaked-blue-swirls-tattoos-painted-his-chest-when-god-made-that-chest-he-did-to-tempt-women-il
i-whirled-in-room-like-tornado-wearing-tracksuit-i-wasnt-wearing-tracksuit-but-i-did-have-smirk-like-zipper-i-loved-her-like-my-fly-was-open-to-criticism-jarod-kintz
buttercups-mother-whirled-on-him-did-you-forget-to-pay-your-taxes-this-was-after-taxes-but-everything-is-after-taxes-taxes-were-here-even-before-stew-william-goldman
It was one of those rare moments where one has a vision of the scope of the wild ocean. Not just small cylinders firing to keep a tiny engine running, but rather the giant, massive gears of nature, each one with its own reasoning, its own meta-logic, spinning in its particular circle in competition or in confluence with the gear below it. We zeroed in on the school, but our progress was painfully slow, It would have been foolish to speed into the tumult-we would have ruined our baits in the process and doomed our chances of hooking a tuna. But luckily, the commotion did not subside. If anything it only grew more frantic and exhuberant on our approach. Beneath the birds, beneath the dolphins, beneath the menhaden, there should have been an equally vast school of giant bluefin tuna, collaborating with vertebrates of the so-called higher orders of life to form the floor of the prey trap, sealing the baitfish in from below, while the dolphins and birds made up the trap's walls and ceiling. A strike from a giant tuna seemed inevitable...as the boat moved forward, I saw seabirds gathering up ahead into a cloud, the size and violence of which I had never seen before. Gannets - big, albatross-like pelagic birds - flew hundreds of feet above the churning surface of the water. In a flock of many thousands, they whirled in unison and then, as if on command from some brigadier general of bird life, dropped in an arc, bird after bird, into the water beneath. The gyre of gannets turned in a clockwise direction, and down below, spinning counterclockwise, was the largest school of dolphins I'd ever seen. There in the angry blue-green sea, the dolphins had corralled a vast school of menhaden-small herringlike creatures that, when bitten, release globules of oil that float on the surface. Oil slicks flattened the water everywhere as the dolphins swirled around, using their exceptional intelligence and wolf-pack cooperation to befuddle and surround the fish, which in turn whirled in a clockwise direction.

Paul Greenberg
it-was-one-those-rare-moments-where-one-has-vision-scope-wild-ocean-not-just-small-cylinders-firing-to-keep-tiny-engine-running-but-rather-giant-massive-gears-nature-each-one-wit
one-late-winter-afternoon-in-oxford-street-amid-noise-vehicles-voices-that-filled-that-dusky-thoroughfare-as-i-was-borne-onward-with-crowd-past-great-electriclighted-shops-holy-i
While this is all very amusing, the kiss that will free the girl is the kiss that she most desires, ' she said. 'Only that and nothing more.' Jace's heart started to pound. He met the Queen's eyes with his own. 'Why are you doing this?' ... 'Desire is not always lessened by disgust... And as my words bind my magic, so you can know the truth. If she doesn't desire your kiss, she won't be free.' 'You don't have to do this, Clary, it's a trick-' (Simon)... Isabelle sounded exasperated. 'Who cares, anyway? It's just a kiss.' 'That's right, ' Jace said. Clary looked up, then finally, and her wide green eyes rested on him. He moved toward her... and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him... He could feel the tension in his own body, the effort of holding back, of not pulling her against him and taking this one chance, however dangerous and stupid and unwise, and kissing her the way he had thought he would never, in his life, be able to kiss her again. 'It's just a kiss, ' he said, and heard the roughness in his own voice, and wondered if she heard it, too. Not that it mattered-there was no way to hide it. It was too much. He had never wanted like this before... She understood him, laughed when he laughed, saw through the defenses he put up to what was underneath. There was no Jace Wayland more real than the one he saw in her eyes when she looked at him... All he knew was that whatever he had to owe to Hell or Heaven for this chance, he was going to make it count. He... whispered in her ear. 'You can close your eyes and think of England, if you like, ' he said. Her eyes fluttered shut, her lashes coppery lines against her pale, fragile skin. 'I've never even been to England, ' she said, and the softness, the anxiety in her voice almost undid him. He had never kissed a girl without knowing she wanted it too, usually more than he did, and this was Clary, and he didn't know what she wanted. Her eyes were still closed, but she shivered, and leaned into him - barely, but it was permission enough. His mouth came down on hers. And that was it. All the self-control he'd exerted over the past weeks went, like water crashing through a broken dam. Her arms came up around his neck and he pulled her against him... His hands flattened against her back... and she was up on the tips of her toes, kissing him as fiercely as he was kissing her... He clung to her more tightly, knotting his hands in her hair, trying to tell her, with the press of his mouth on hers, all the things he could never say out loud... His hands slid down to her waist... he had no idea what he would have done or said next, if it would have been something he could never have pretended away or taken back, but he heard a soft hiss of laughter - the Faerie Queen - in his ears, and it jolted him back to reality. He pulled away from Clary before he it was too late, unlocking her hands from around his neck and stepping back... Clary was staring at him. Her lips were parted, her hands still open. Her eyes were wide. Behind her, Alec and Isabelle were gaping at them; Simon looked as if he was about to throw up... If there had ever been any hope that he could have come to think of Clary as just his sister, this - what had just happened between them - had exploded it into a thousand pieces... He tried to read Clary's face - did she feel the same? ... I know you felt it, he said to her with his eyes, and it was half bitter triumph and half pleading. I know you felt it, too... She glanced away from him... He whirled on the Queen. 'Was that good enough?' he demanded. 'Did that entertain you?' The Queen gave him a look: special and secretive and shared between the two of them. 'We are quite entertained, " she said. 'But not, I think, so much as the both of you.

Cassandra Clare
while-this-is-all-amusing-kiss-that-will-free-girl-is-kiss-that-she-most-desires-she-said-only-that-nothing-more-jaces-heart-started-to-pound-he-met-queens-eyes-with-his-own-why-
Come, Paul!" she reiterated, her eye grazing me with its hard ray like a steel stylet. She pushed against her kinsman. I thought he receded; I thought he would go. Pierced deeper than I could endure, made now to feel what defied suppression, I cried - "My heart will break!" What I felt seemed literal heart-break; but the seal of another fountain yielded under the strain: one breath from M. Paul, the whisper, "Trust me!" lifted a load, opened an outlet. With many a deep sob, with thrilling, with icy shiver, with strong trembling, and yet with relief - I wept. "Leave her to me; it is a crisis: I will give her a cordial, and it will pass, " said the calm Madame Beck. To be left to her and her cordial seemed to me something like being left to the poisoner and her bowl. When M. Paul answered deeply, harshly, and briefly - "Laissez-moi!" in the grim sound I felt a music strange, strong, but life-giving. "Laissez-moi!" he repeated, his nostrils opening, and his facial muscles all quivering as he spoke. "But this will never do, " said Madame, with sternness. More sternly rejoined her kinsman - "Sortez d'ici!" "I will send for Pe¨re Silas: on the spot I will send for him, " she threatened pertinaciously. "Femme!" cried the Professor, not now in his deep tones, but in his highest and most excited key, "Femme! sortez e  l'instant!" He was roused, and I loved him in his wrath with a passion beyond what I had yet felt. "What you do is wrong, " pursued Madame; "it is an act characteristic of men of your unreliable, imaginative temperament; a step impulsive, injudicious, inconsistent - a proceeding vexatious, and not estimable in the view of persons of steadier and more resolute character." "You know not what I have of steady and resolute in me, " said he, "but you shall see; the event shall teach you. Modeste, " he continued less fiercely, "be gentle, be pitying, be a woman; look at this poor face, and relent. You know I am your friend, and the friend of your friends; in spite of your taunts, you well and deeply know I may be trusted. Of sacrificing myself I made no difficulty but my heart is pained by what I see; it must have and give solace. Leave me!" This time, in the "leave me" there was an intonation so bitter and so imperative, I wondered that even Madame Beck herself could for one moment delay obedience; but she stood firm; she gazed upon him dauntless; she met his eye, forbidding and fixed as stone. She was opening her lips to retort; I saw over all M. Paul's face a quick rising light and fire; I can hardly tell how he managed the movement; it did not seem violent; it kept the form of courtesy; he gave his hand; it scarce touched her I thought; she ran, she whirled from the room; she was gone, and the door shut, in one second. The flash of passion was all over very soon. He smiled as he told me to wipe my eyes; he waited quietly till I was calm, dropping from time to time a stilling, solacing word. Ere long I sat beside him once more myself - re-assured, not desperate, nor yet desolate; not friendless, not hopeless, not sick of life, and seeking death. "It made you very sad then to lose your friend?" said he. "It kills me to be forgotten, Monsieur, " I said.

Charlotte Bronte«
come-paul-she-reiterated-her-eye-grazing-me-with-its-hard-ray-like-steel-stylet-she-pushed-against-her-kinsman-i-thought-he-receded-i-thought-he-would-go-pierced-deeper-than-i-co
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