Charles Beaumont Quotes
A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth.
He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them.
But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking.
Charles Beaumont
Quotes to Explore
I like every girl. Every kind of girl that there is, I like.
Action Bronson
But the Queen has no such veto; She must sign her own death-warrant if the two Houses unanimously send it up to her.
Walter Bagehot
After the first glass you see things as you wish they were. After the second glass you see things as they are not. Finally, you see things as they really are, and that is the most horrible thing in the world.
Oscar Wilde
'I keep hoping you’ll tell me. You’re the god, after all. If I prayed to you for guidance, and you decided to answer, what would you tell me?''I wouldn’t answer.''Because you don’t care? Or because you wouldn’t know what to say?'More silence.
N. K. Jemisin
Let us labor to add all needful guarantees for the more perfect security of free thought, free speech, and free press, pure morals, unfettered religious sentiments, and of equal rights and privileges to all men, irrespective of nationality, color, or religion.
Ulysses S. Grant
Writing is a crummy profession, but a good hobby.
Paavo Haavikko
The whole duty of man is embraced in the two principles of abstinence and patience: temperance in prosperity, and patient courage in adversity.
Seneca the Younger
Oofy, thinking of the tenner he had given Freddie, writhed like an electric fan.
P. G. Wodehouse
He who helped you when you were in trouble ought not afterwards be despised by you.
Wilhelm Grimm
Start with a shovel, wind up with a spoon
Jimi Hendrix
The Jimi Hendrix Experience
A cold wind raced across the surrounding fields of wild grass, turning the land into a heaving dark-green ocean. It sighed up through the branches of cherry trees and rattled the thick leaves. Sometimes a cherry would break loose, tumble in the gale, fall and split, filling the night with its fragrance. The air was iron and loam and growth.
He walked and tried to pull these things into his lungs, the silence and coolness of them.
But someone was screaming, deep inside him. Someone was talking.
Charles Beaumont
