William Cullen Bryant Quotes
Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste
Stream down the snows, till the air is white,
As, myriads by myriads madly chased,
They fling themselves from their shadowy height.
The fair, frail creatures of middle sky,
What speed they make, with their grave so nigh;
Flake after flake,
To lie in the dark and silent lake!
William Cullen Bryant
Quotes to Explore
When I was young, to have a big nose, big lips or dark skin was the worst. You were the wretched. That was something I not only felt, but I participated in.
Nate Parker
'American Horror Story' is dark, so you shouldn't be expecting too much happiness.
Taissa Farmiga
I acquired a hunger for fairy tales in the dark days of blackout and blitz in the Second World War.
A. S. Byatt
My family is a kaleidoscope... My family is like that. We're all different colors, like a prism. When we have light shine and stuff, we're beautiful. When it's dark, nothing shines, and it's a rock.
Olesya Rulin
It is more from carelessness about truth than from intentionally lying that there is so much falsehood in the world.
Samuel Johnson
Everyone's like, 'Oh, you must live in L.A., the glamorous life,' and I really don't. I'm in a small house, in Pittsburgh, in the snow.
Maddie Ziegler
A lot of geeks are pale, bespectacled, wear dark clothing and don't get out much - the stereotype exists because it is very often true. I could pass for a non-geek but it would be inaccurate.
China Mieville
Literary success of any enduring kind is made by refusing to do what publishers want, by refusing to write what the public wants, by refusing to accept any popular standard, by refusing to write anything to order.
Lafcadio Hearn
I seem to have gathered up a stray lamb in my arms: you wandered out of the fold to seek your shepherd, did you, Jane?
Charlotte Bronte
Lo! while we are gazing, in swifter haste
Stream down the snows, till the air is white,
As, myriads by myriads madly chased,
They fling themselves from their shadowy height.
The fair, frail creatures of middle sky,
What speed they make, with their grave so nigh;
Flake after flake,
To lie in the dark and silent lake!
William Cullen Bryant
