He looked like the love thoughts of women. He could be a bee to a blossom--a pear tree blossom in the spring. He seemed to be crus...hing scent out of the world with his footsteps. Crushing aromatic herbs with every step he took. Spices hung about him. He was a glance from God.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I don't want to know about the constitution of the rapist--I want to kill him! I don't care if he is white or black, if he is midd...le-class or poor, if his mother hung him from the clothesline by his balls: I only want to kill him! Any woman who has been raped will agree.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough,... And stands about the woodland ride Wearing white for Eastertide.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
We are all of us made by war, twisted and warped by war, but we seem to forget it. A war does not end with the Armistice. In 1919,... all over a Europe filled with graves, hung miasmas and miseries, and over the whole world too, because of the flu and its nearly thirty million deaths. I used to joke that it was the war that had give birth to me, as a defence when weary with the talk about the war that went on--and on--and on. But it was no joke. I used to feel there was something like a dark grey cloud, like poison gas, over my early childhood. Later I found people who had the same experience. Perhaps it was from that war that I first felt the struggling panicky need to escape, with a nervous aversion to where I have just stood, as if something there might blow up or drag me down by the heel.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Sam Goldwyn said, "How'm I gonna do decent pictures when all my good writers are in jail?" Then he added, the infallible Goldwyn, ..."Don't misunderstand me, they all ought to be hung." Mr. Goldwyn didn't know about "hanged." That's all there is to say.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The myth of superwoman has hung on long after the media stopped airing fantasy-based commercials about working women's lives: Here... she comes, home from the office after 12 hours of high-powered negotiations in the executive suite. Her designer suit is still fresh and unwrinkled, her face radiant and unlined as she opens her arms to greet her two adorable children--and sends a seductive glance toward her handsome husband, beaming proudly in the background. Watch her as, with one smooth motion, she slips off her jacket and into a dainty apron as she glides toward the spotless kitchen to create a three-course meal for her beloved family. After dinner she will check the children's French homework and read them a chapter of Jane Eyre before tucking the little cherubs into bed. While her husband watches the late-night news, she will disappear into the den to make an overseas call that will clinch a multinational deal for her company.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The very fact that he had no rabble or troop of hirelings about him would alone distinguish him from ordinary heroes. His company ...was small indeed, because few could be found worthy to pass muster. Each one who there laid down his life for the poor and oppressed was a picked man,... a man of principle, of rare courage, and devoted humanity; ready to sacrifice his life at any moment for the benefit of his fellow-man. It may be doubted if there were as many more their equals in these respects in all the country.... These alone were ready to step between the oppressor and the oppressed. Surely they were the very best men you could select to be hung. That was the greatest compliment which this country could pay them. They were ripe for the gallows. She has tried a long time, she has hung a good many, but never found the right one before.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I had an old axe which nobody claimed, with which by spells in winter days, on the sunny side of the house, I played about the stu...mps which I had got out of my bean-field. As my driver prophesied when I was plowing, they warmed me twice,--once while I was splitting them, and again when they were on the fire, so that no fuel could give out more heat. As for the axe,... if it was dull, it was at least hung true.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
My life has been one great big joke, A dance that's walked... A song that's spoke, I laugh so hard I almost choke When I think about myself.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The work is rather too light, bright, and sparkling; it wants shade; it wants to be stretched out here and there with a long<...br />chapter of sense, if it could be had; if not of solemn specious nonsense, about something unconnected with the story; an essay on writing, a critique of Walter Scott, or a history of Buonaparte, or anything that would form a contrast, and bring the reader with increased delight to the playfulness and epigrammatism of the general style.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »