That's why I quit and took up writing poetry instead. It's clean, it's relaxing, it doesn't squirt juice all over... Something you were certain of a minute ago and now your own face Is a stranger and no one can tell you it's true. Hey, stupid!LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
... the only way in which Mr. Brooke could be coerced into thinking of the right arguments at the right time was to be well plied ...with them till they took up all the room in his brain. But here there was the difficulty of finding room, so many things having been taken in beforehand. Mr. Brooke himself observed that his ideas stood rather in his way when he was speaking.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The season developed and matured. Another year's installment of flowers, leaves, nightingales, thrushes, finches, and such ephemer...al creatures, took up their positions where only a year ago others had stood in their place when these were nothing more than germs and inorganic particles. Rays from the sunrise drew forth the buds and stretched them into long stalks, lifted up sap in noiseless streams, opened petals, and sucked out scents in invisible jets and breathings.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
I'm right here to tell you, mister. There ain't nobody gonna push me off my land. My grandpa took up this land seventy years ago. ...My pa was born here. We was all born on it. And some of us was killed on it. And some of us died on it. That's what makes it ourn. Bein' born on it. And workin' on it. And dyin' on it. And not no piece of paper with writin' on it.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Shuffled between caring and disgrace I took up all our closet space.... What luxury we first checked into, to growl like lawyers until I threw my diamonds and cash upon the floor.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Love took up the glass of Time, and turned it in his glowing hands; Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.... Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
He took up his pen, which seemed to parch like a martyr in his hand. He began to write, nevertheless, addressing the nine-and-nine...ty lies of the moment he hoped with for a night of saloperie at the side of the twisted strumpet, Fiction, who lasciviously rolled her eyes at him, hiked up her skirt, and beckoned him on.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The same indignation that is said to have cleared the temple once will clear it again. The question is not about the weapon, but t...he spirit in which you use it. No man has appeared in America, as yet, who loved his fellow-man so well, and treated him so tenderly. He lived for him. He took up his life and he laid it down for him.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
When I first took up my abode in the woods, that is, began to spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on In...dependence Day, or the Fourth of July, 1845, my house was not finished for winter, but was merely a defence against the rain, without plastering or chimney, the walls being of rough, weather-stained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and window casings gave it a clean and airy look, especially in the morning, when its timbers were saturated with dew, so that I fancied that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them. To my imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this auroral character, reminding me of a certain house on a mountain which I had visited a year before. This was an airy and unplastered cabin, fit to entertain a travelling god, and where a goddess might trail her garments. The winds which passed over my dwelling were such as sweep over the ridges of mountains, bearing the broken strains, or celestial parts only, of terrestrial music. The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »