I sleep with my feet on moss carpets, my branches in the cotton of the clouds.
My office is trashed,” he grumped as he squished across his damp carpet and took the coffee that I was holding out to him. “Why are you smiling? My fish are dead.
Books bend space and time. One reason the owners of those aforesaid little rambling, poky secondhand bookshops always seem slightly unearthly is that many of them really are, having strayed into this world after taking a wrong turning in their own bookshops in worlds where it is considered commendable business practice to wear carpet slippers all the time and open your shop only when you feel like it.
If I look back, my mother was always out. I can remember the perfume and her scarlet chiffon dress and crystal beads, going to a party. She used to play her violin at restaurants later on in life and at old people's homes. She loved the races, which she used to take me to as a child: our carpets were bought with her winnings. Loved her chickens.
It took my breath away, that evening. If you've ever dreamed that you walked into your best-loved book or film or TV program, then maybe you've got some idea how it felt: things coming alive around you, strange and new and utterly familiar at the same time; the catch in your heartbeat as you move through the rooms that had such a vivid untouchable life in your mind, as your feet actually touch the carpet, as you breathe the air; the odd, secret glow of warmth as these people you've been watching for so long, from so far away, open their circle and sweep you into it.
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon, that means we're inconsolable. Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.
Does anyone know why Will left?" Charlotte demanded, standing at the head of a long table around which the rest of them were seated. Cecily, her hands folded demurely before her, suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the carpet.
Even more blood welled up and spilled down his arm, splattering onto the ground. “Camille’s carpet,” Magnus protested. “It’s blood,” said Will. “She ought to be thrilled.
New Rule: Food companies must face the facts: One container equals one serving. Look, we’re Americans, and that means once we open the bag, there’s no stopping us until we’re licking stray bits of powdered cheese off the carpet. So stop trying to give us nutritional information based on a fraction of the package. It assumes a talent for two things that we’re really not capable of: restraint and math.
We have embraced the 21st century by entering such cutting-edge industries as brick, carpet, insulation and paint. Try to control your excitement.
You wouldn't replace your carpet at home if you still had a hole in the roof...We're talking about any time you start waving a carrot such as American citizenship without securing the borders, that number [of undocumented immigrants] that we have today I believe will double or triple.
There's nothing worse than seeing someone chewing gum on the red carpet!
Sometimes he will sit on the carpet in front of you, looking at you with eyes so melting, so caressing and so human, that they almost frighten you, for it is impossible to believe that a soul is not there.
People write because it seems like it'll be an easier job than carpet laying, that they might meet more girls. And they write because the world strikes them as being a marvelous place, and they want to keep bringing that to everybody's attention. You know ~ a scary place, a menacing place, an exciting place because it's scary and menacing. But mainly, kind of glorious.
Without my relatives, I am but a thread; together, we form a colorful and elaborate Persian carpet.
I have a lot of anxiety about the red carpet. As a woman, it's uncomfortable to be in a position in which people are judging you, looking at what you're wearing, and criticizing you - not necessarily in a negative way.
My books have been part of my life forever. They have been good soldiers, boon companions. Every book has survived numerous purges over the years; each book has repeatedly been called onto the carpet and asked to explain itself. I own no book that has not fought the good fight, taken on all comers, and earned the right to remain. If a book is there, it is there for a reason.
My wearing my hair in locs on an Oscar red carpet was to showcase them in a positive light, to remind people of color that our hair is good enough.
I love bringing the colors and textures of other cultures. If I wear a dress that I bought from a street vendor in Bali on a red carpet, it's a way of bringing my travels with me.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.
Patience is more than a virtue for long lines and slow waiters. Patience is the red carpet upon which God's grace approaches us.
When I do fall in love, I'll go to the ends of the earth for that person. I'd lay down on a carpet of nails for the person I love.
The letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the writer’s personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us directly and talking just as she really would, could she have come on a magic carpet, instead of sending her proxy in ink-made characters on mere paper.
Yet what each one does is by no means of little moment. The grass has to put forth all its energy to draw sustenance from the uttermost tips of its rootlets simply to grow where it is as grass; it does not vainly strive to become a banyan tree; and so the earth gains a lovely carpet of green.
I live for now, not for what happens after I die. I'm going to hell, not heaven. The devil has all the good gear. What's God got? The Inspiral Carpets and nuns.
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