Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Eave. 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 Eave Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Thomas Beecham,Frances Hodgson Burnett,John Flanagan,Trenton Lee Stewart,J.p. Walker for you to enjoy and share.
The musical equivalent of St Pancras Station.
(on Elgar)
THE SECRET GARDEN
Erak. The one they call the Oberjarl," the Arridi answered him.
Impulsively, Axl took a pace forward, raising his ax threateningly.
You'll have to go through the rest of us to take him!" he shouted defiantly.
Well done, Axl," he said. "You've just told them I'm here.
Enter at the exit
12 Arnold Grove, Merseyside.
CLEARVIEW, QUEENS
Above us our palace waits, the only one I've ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming again like fireflies in a summer evening.
Chapter 19 Where are you, Aeney? You slip away from me as you always did. Where are you?
Is there a reason we're taking the alley?" he asked. "The air is a tad ripe out here."
"Unfriendly eyes out front."
"Enforcers?"
"A ten-year-old boy."
"Oh, yes. Terrifying."
"He's someone's spy," she said.
Good morrow, fair ones; pray you, if you know,
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands
A sheep-cote fenc'd about with olive trees?
city." As they descended, Eliza
Basketball courts ringed with barbed-wire fence.
Dance with the Awen
A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.
I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw from them a
single word: Home.
Shadowy tangles of unpaved musty-smelling lanes where eldritch
If Elain's mental gates were those of a sleeping garden, Nesta's...They belonged to an ancient fortress, sharp and brutal. The sort I imagined they once impaled people upon.
benediction. Below the window, on one of the bastioned
The Edge ... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
They crested a rise, and there it was, in the hollow between rolling hills - a low, square building, ghostly gray in the moonlight.
"Is that it?" asked Hamilton.
"It probably isn't the local opera house," groaned Ian.
heights th' immortal Gods, Jove
the coast, irregular
You look out of the car window on your right and are surprised to find that the narrow, worn strip that carries you has turned into a wide, smooth elegant road. The asphalt shines, and soon it separates out, rising to a hill with classy building, and you realize it leads to a settlement.
This is Chanceux Chateau. Home to the formidable Prince Severin and his extraordinary wife, Princess Elle, and all that they hold dear." The
There are apartments in the soul which have a glorious outlook; from whose windows you can see across the river of death, and into the shining city beyond; but how often are these neglected for the lower ones, which have earthward-looking windows.
For if hevene be on this erthe, and ese to any soule,It is in cloistre or in scole.
What abandoned course is that?
How hard it is to escape from places. However carefully one goes they hold you - you leave little bits of yourself fluttering on the fences - like rags and shreds of your very life.
You're my air, Evie. Without you, I drown in breathless sky.
Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away.
I'm looking for the exit."
"The Last Exit to Brooklyn, will it be?"
"Er, no! Just the way out."
From "One man in his time
magnificent canyon of fashion.
Isn't this the Eolian? I had heard that this is where pride pays silver and plays golden.
clearing and into the
A shared characteristic in each of these translations is that ea is an active state of being. Like breathing, ea cannot be achieved or possessed; it requires constant action day after day, generation after generation. Unlike
Home. I have no idea what that word really means.
Noting the lack of crime or security in the Netherlands, the author asked a native who guarded a national landmark. He got the replay, We all do.
Blue skies of Barcelona. I took a taxi to the school, where I expected to be
Brownsville, having missed their road and wandered in the
Edge?"
"E.D.G.E.," he said, helping him to the waiting helicopter. "Elite Digital and Global Enforcement."
"Never heard of it," Jake said.
"That's the idea," the man said with a grin.
Enchanted Garden at last. The silent garden with the sweet smell of stocks, gardenias and roses, this garden I so often walk in my dreams. Sleep
Unnoticed, the passage has occurred; as I brood, autumn dusk dewdrops fall on my pillow. The voices of insects and the deer by the fence, as one, disturb me to tears this autumn dusk.
Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed
And saw from elm tops, delicate as flower of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.
Mother once told me that one had to lower one's head when passing under low eaves in order to avoid injury.
Just below the dome, staring down
Adore, v.t. To venerate expectantly.
field. I'll meet you there.
The front windows as are the watchmen of grief - I've been looking beyond expectation - Beyond myself - and I do not know as I love you - Which one of us is missing.
front courtyard of his house. In an inner courtyard,
Moorcroft with a small pasture
Through the veil of Love, one finds the heaven on Earth
Maybe late afternoon is autumn; summer's retreat
not being archived, but suspended, as the feathered
vane of a bird wings its way across the avenue.
I could not have written this book the way I wanted to without the insight of one such friend, Brent Dempsey. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for being so generous with your time and for helping me get it right. I solemnly swear to never again use the words stakeout or perp.
The resounding stillness gives the structures an impression of abandonment. Yet each time I turn down these streets, I can sense strangers behind the facades, holding their breath as they continue pursuits I will never know.
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn evening. The Field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent; hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play!
Eric turned the corner onto his old
I was in the black silence of a medieval street, and blindly I followed its sharp turns, comforted by the height of its narrow tenements, which seemed at any moment capable of falling together, closing this alleyway under indifferent stars like a seam.
As paredes tem ouvidos. (Portuguese: The walls have ears.)
Kingsport or feel at home there. Before
My mansion is, where those immortal shapes Of bright aerial spirits live insphered In regions mild of calm and serene air, Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot Which men call Earth.
In the midst of nature's savagery, human beings sometimes (rarely) succeed in creating small oases warmed by love. Small, exclusive, enclosed spaces governed only by love and shared subjectivity.
What the eye delights in, no longer dictates My greed to enjoy: boys, grass, the fenced-off deer. It leaves those figures that distantly play On the horizon's rim: they sign their peace, in games.
Fear leads to death as the window to the courtyard. Jump!
This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o-erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire.
New York, forever the port of em- and de-barkation en route to Adventure.
You who travel with the wind, what weather vane shall direct your course?
No known roof is as beautiful as the skies above.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Dane: Damn it, Aerin you don't have a plane
Aerin: I'll take yours.
Dane: The hell you will!
Earthen berm that ran next to the nearest set of tracks.
with thick stone walls and high, slitted
Over my pile of ashes
A simple dream, set in a city park, along an avenue of mature elms, whose overarching branches turned the avenue into a green tunnel into which the sky and the sunlight were dripping, here and there, through the perfect imperfections in the canopy of leaves.
Newrose, oldrose, Queen Anne's lace. Water, river, stone, and sun. Wind over hill, under tree. Past the border none can see. Climbing into dark for you Will you wait in stars for me? I
Headquarters in the Saddle.
hockey field at Red Maids' School. By the time Emma had explained why she crossed the Atlantic despite the risks involved, they were both staring at her as if she'd just landed from
Bellport. A podium.
The venal herd.
[Lat., Venale pecus.]
There was something wrong about the house in Eastfield Terrace. Something unpleasant.
On the Jellicoe road
If Everton were playing down the bottom of my garden, I'd draw the curtains.
Blowing,Blowing
The gray slabs
Will lose you
the winds will flick you away
In a whiff
No one ever leaves alive The house at 7 Ocean Drive
words / hazard all
Estragon: Nothing to be done.
anchor, v.: I drift, I drift, I drift, you stay.
Paige is at the aerie." Raffe gives me a don't-you-dare look. "You mean the place where I barely got you out alive because they were killing every human they could get their hands on?" "Thank you, by the way.
For a few seconds Oskar saw through Eli's eyes. And what he saw was ... himself. Only much better, more handsome, stronger than what he thought of himself. Seen with love. (Let the Right One In)
Where sky and water meet,
Where the waves grow sweet,
Doubt not, Reepicheep,
To find all you seek, There is the utter East.
Loss of safe harbor, refuge of grace, where loving-kindness rues one day like another.
Stand outside De Eland, on the Berenstraat Bridge over the Prinsengracht, and you see what real Amsterdam life is like.
The turf shall be my fragrant shrine; My temple, Lord! that arch of thine; My censer's breath the mountain airs, And silent thoughts my only prayers. MOORE
The front door shut, leaving Alec sitting in the half-lit garden, alone. He closed his eyes for a moment, the image of a face hovering behind his lids. Not Jace's face, for a change. The eyes set in the face were green, slit-pupiled. Cat eyes.
Winter crescent resting in the high pine bough - you fly through the woods like a lone snow bird ...
Where I wholly love I wholly trust.
This is a valley of ashes - a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the form of houses and chimneys and riding smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air.
Git an eyeful of cesspool alley the land of opportunity.
neighborhood, the place I left each
Look, if I don't let Ewan in, he's going to call the police."
"Answer it," he rasped with a harsh resolve. "But when he's gone, you're coming with me, Emma. Count on it."
"Go to hell," she snapped in a breathy whisper as the doorbell rang again.
Trust not to outward show.
[Lat., Fronti nulla fides.]