Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Cowdenbeath. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Cowdenbeath Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Jacqueline Marino,Bill Bryson,Haven Kimmel,Andy Weir,Jim Butcher for you to enjoy and share.
Youngstown - the place where, you know, we were told, people got killed.
Norfolk specializes in odd pronunciations. Hautbois is hobbiss, Wymondham is windum, Costessey is cozzy, Postwick is pozzik. People often ask why that is. I'm not sure, but I think it is just something that happens when you sleep with close relatives.
Mooreland is a long way to go to not to be anywhere when you get there.
It's Hydrogenville in the Hab.
Solution: Winchester.
The only place that's holier than St. Andrews is Westminster Abbey.
Long ago, before England was cut up with pavement, or bisected by railways, there existed in the county of Lancashire a small village named Reston that never bothered anyone.
Maidstone," he says, "in Kent. But I moved
happy hunting-grounds
Hymies." And "Hymietown.
Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal the mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne.
Meadowlark, you are the best!
And Tomlinson found this in the Times right before I left to come here. Windham
White Hart Lane was always a place where I felt I belonged.
Thunder Point, Oregon, because
Greenwich is a funny word, isn't it? All green and witchy. Like soup.
London, dirty little pool of life
My whinstone house my castle is, I have my own four walls.
Can it be the old devil's house? I've heard he has a house in North London.
Let any stranger find mee so pleasant a county, such good way, large heath, three such places as Norwich, Yar. and Lin. in any county of England, and I'll bee once again a vagabond to visit them.
Very nice sort of place, Oxford, I should think, for people that like that sort of place.
I was thinking of Cambridge, and then I got a bit homesick for a minute, 'cause I never been this far away from home before. But the I remember you're here, and now I'm not homesick no more.
London, ... like a bowl of viscid human fluid, boils sullenly over the rim of its encircling hills and slops messily into the home counties.
I love Sutton House in Clapton, a beautiful example of Tudor architecture.
You can't go to East Anglia and not visit Sutton Hoo. Well, you can, obviously, but you shouldn't.
Somerset is where I call home, and where I feel most myself.
Surprisingly few outsiders know about the Cuckmere Valley, and it is not uncommon for people to confuse Alfriston with Alfreton in the Derbyshire Peak District.
Bellport. A podium.
I am the ghost in Harrenhal.
Middlesbrough is the second greatest place to live in Britain! Behind Hartlepool.
What's feeding in Derry? What's feeding on Derry?
Ireland, Ireland. That cloud in the west, that coming storm.
Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain.
The very end of me mom's road is the back entrance to Bray Head. Usually climb it when I get home.
I come from the Lynchs of Sligo. You know, I went there, but I looked in the phone book and there are nine million Lynches in Sligo.
There's only one head bigger than Tony Greig's - and that's Birkenhead
O' the blue-bodied cowherd - ever playful in love and war. Don't you fail to see the immensity of his wisdom and light.
The real reason I love Bamburgh is that it's the only place in the world where I ever truly relax.
Wales! Where the men are men and the sheep are scared!
the Dew-Drop Inn & Fishing Camp;
The Dew-Drop Inn & Fishing Camp;
Cockmotherhumpershitpissbodoinkeewacker,
Yorkshire is so much part of me.
town. In the back of his
The misbegotten town of Whistlebrass is hidden away in a forgotten corner of northern Vermont like a guilty secret or a bloody knife buried under the floorboards.
Wotan of Walhalla,
Edinburgh House. He had heard that in its industrial heyday, Corby had had
Suffolk has something more than the coziness of Kent and Surrey. There is a hint of wildness in its tamed beauty, and the tang of the North Sea is never far away.
with thick stone walls and high, slitted
Hyacinth. Please forgive me.
I've got a farm in Somerset, and I think it's God's own country. I love it.
Wade Dooley: With a handle like that he sounds more like a western sheriff than the Lancashire bobby that he is.
A country of long shadows on county cricket grounds, warm beer, green suburbs, dog lovers, and old maids cycling to holy communion through the morning mist.
A madhouse of frenzied moneymaking and frenzied pleasure-seeking, with none of the corners chipped off. It is beautifully situatedand the air reminds one curiously of Edinburgh.
Colchester, Ash, my captain, staking my body with his cock like a conqueror, like a king.
Where are the rough brave Britons to be found With Hearts of Oak, so much of old renowned?
amassed at Wenden and, unless they
Years ago I had a house in Sussex, it was like Arcadia, with an old Victorian bridge, a pond and the Downs.
Twoleg den with cows and a dark, hay-scented barn where she and
The countryside they
I have a cottage near Aldeburgh, and from there it's a sturdy two-mile walk across farmland to an empty beach, where I collect hag stones and run around with the dog. I'm a keen walker, and I love Suffolk's big skies.
He settles on the Green Animals Topiary Garden in Portsmouth.
London, London, London town,
You can toughen up or get thrown around.
somewhere in the mountains with two
Mint-street and Kent-street--those old plague-spots that disgrace and disfigure the fair face of the Borough of Southwark--teem with blackguardism and vice; but here, too, you find that the birds who here flock are strictly of a feather. Cow-cross,
The Aravaipa village near Camp Grant. Although Camp
What is your name?" asked Lear.
Caius," said Kent.
And whence do you hail?"
From Bonking, sire."
Well, yes, lad, as do we all," said Lear, "but from what town?
Headquarters in the Saddle.
The churchyard. Walled in by houses and overrun with weeds, choked up with too much buying.
Fox Creek Road. Such a simple, unassuming name for this place where destiny's going to go down. Now I know the where. And the who, and the what. All I have to figure out is the when. And the why.
Abandoned mill that
WESTBURY, a nasty odious rotten-borough, a really rotten place.
Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge.
I went to high school in the highlands of Scotland.
There's just something about Highbury that is difficult to describe. When you first arrive, you hardly see the stadium and wonder where it is but then you find it between two blocks of flats
Sugartown Sugartown Sugartown Sugartown.
Jockey Wilson, he comes from the valleys and he's chuffing like a choo-choo train!
Walla Walla is where I make wine, with Eric Dunham. He and I partnered up on a small project for me. We make pretty good cabernet and syrah.
CHAPTER XXXV CHOWTON FARM FOR SALE
Eric Boocock had been England's No.1 for a spell in the late 60s and early 70s. He reached three world finals and in 1974 put the town on the map by winning the British Championship in front of a 10,000 crowd and ITV's World of Sport cameras. Everybody
What a grand, higgledy-piggledy, sensible old place Norwich is!
It is that word 'hunny,' my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up.
London November 1912 Heather Farm Grasmere Westmorland Dear Tilly, I hope you and your sister
I am writing in one of the Keepers' Lodges to wh I have returned after stalking & where I am waiting for the Prince of Wales. Quite the best day's sport I have had in this country - 4 good stags & home early!
The Huddersfield that I like best is a large town with a big heart and an open mind.
The South Downs of England reminded me a bit of my Old Virginia homeland.
My sisters and I cannot spend any substantial time searching for Wickham, as we are each commanded by His Majesty to defend Hertfordshire from all enemies until such time as we are dead, rendered lame, or married.
Sanctuary, home of the Howlers and stragglers of the Were universe. (Damien)
What abandoned course is that?
I grew up in a little village in the west of Ireland.
If you were going to choose a way of making your way in this world and a place to start from, you might not choose poetry and you might not choose Huddersfield.
away from Clive.
Every cocke is proud on his owne dunghill.
Julian of Norwich,
Grew up in Stapleton House village, where blood flood the waters in the streets like oil spillage
It is a long way off, sir"
"From what Jane?"
"From England and from Thornfield: and _"
"Well?"
"From you, sir
This is an old house. Among the oldest in the area, a white clapboard former farmhouse built in 1748. Fart on the porch and it rattles a floor board in the attic. -Dice (Swoon)
The tender Evenlode that makes Her meadows hush to hear the sound Of waters mingling in the brakes, And binds my heart to English ground. A lovely river, all alone, She lingers in the hills and holds A hundred little towns of stone, Forgotten in the western wolds.
HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY, 1985 "We lived at 202 Elizabeth Street." My grandmother looked away from the video camera to my head.
Now I think I'm back in Wisconsin. I see cows." "Sounds like Wisconsin.