Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Farseer. 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 Farseer Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Edmund Spenser,Vanessa Diffenbaugh,Carey Corp,Renee Ahdieh,William Shakespeare for you to enjoy and share.
Fresh spring the herald of love's mighty king.
Hyacinth. Please forgive me.
Verranica, I will never leave you.
This destroyer of worlds and creature of wonder.
Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
And if ye angler take fysshe; surely thenne is there noo man merier than he is in his spyryte.
sings in the background like a big bale of black coming towards me through moorland mist.
Who's that, the windbreaker?
On mornings when I hope you forget my name,
I walk through the high wet weeds
that don't have names either.
I do not remember the word dew.
I do not remember what I told you
with your ear in my teeth.
OLD FRIENDS. Fcp. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net.
The only wise God!
Marrer of Middle-earth, would that I might see you face to face, and mar you as my lord Fingolfin did!
his name. The gardener, if you
An everlasting lodestar, that beams the brighter in the heavens the darker here on earth grows the night.
Green little vaulter, in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole noise that's heard amidst the lazy noon, When ev'n the bees lag at the summoning brass.
Mrs. Francis, may I introduce the Scourge of the Skies, the Terror of Dairy Farmers, the Lord of Lactose, Master of the Cheese Pirates of Snow Monkey Island, Captain Cheesebeard.
My name is Spar. I am neither called Rocky nor made of rock. I am a Guardian, one of those warriors who were summoned to battle against the Seven demons of the Darkness and to prevent their possible return to this human plane of existence. I consider the others of my kind to be my brothers.
the incessant seethe of grasses
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides
Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn
To whom the wilie Adder, blithe and glad.
Getawayfrommeyoumiserablelittlecreep.
The true socialist utopia turns out to be a field of F-1 hybrid plants.
Southly thru shrubby heath we tromped now till we got to wideway. Wideway I'd heard o' from storymen an' here it was, an open, long, flat o' roadstone. SAplin's'n'bush was musclin' up but wondersome'n'wild was that windy space.
Twitter, twatter, fudder, motherfucker, I don't care what it's called.
A Bad start is still a start by Tyr FaHazathant
Type of the wise who soar but never roam, True to the kindred points of heaven and home.
O you virtuous owle,
The wise Minerva's only fowle.
One of those people with invisible thorns, preventing others from getting too close.
rashers of bacon.
The wondrous wise God!
Frobscottle is sweet and jumbly!
I want the following word: splendor, splendor is fruit in all its succulence, fruit without sadness. I want vast distances. My savage intuition of myself.
Andross, you motherfucker.
An interesting one, this boy who looks like a Shadowhunter and speaks like gentry.
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.
Sweet Phosphor, bring the dayWhose conquering rayMay chase these fogs;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Light will repayThe wrongs of night;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!
The whole reason Fenrir's name is Fenrir is because man-hating-bitch-from-Hell is too much of a mouthful, and you can't say it in polite company.
A queer fellow and a jolly fellow is the grasshopper. Up the mountains he comes on excursions, how high I don't know, but at least as far and high as Yosemite tourists.
Dreamer in Exile.
But if you would know, I am turning aside soon. I am going to have a long talk with Bombadil: such a talk as I have not had in all my time. He is a moss-gatherer, and I have been a stone doomed to rolling. But my rolling days are ending, and now we shall have much to say to one another.
Peppier n. The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want ground pepper.
Hodor, said Hodor. Maester
It is deep January. The sky is hard. The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.
I dub thee Toadsticker," I said. "Slayer of miscreants, opener of packages, occasional carver of baked turkeys. Let all men hear, and know mild caution." I swear the steel flickered.
In pale moonlight / the wisteria's scent / comes from far away.
The destroyer of weeds, thistles, and thorns is a benefactor whether he soweth grain or not.
Frodo has been touched by the weapons of the Enemy,' said Strider, 'and there is some poison or evil at work that is beyond my skill to drive out. But do not give up hope, Sam!
Way over yonder is a place I have seen In a garden of wisdom from some long ago dream.
In a maize field choose to be a flower. In a garden of daises choose to be a rose.
Turning hurriedly away from the dead longpaw,
I have the name for the best likker from here to hell and back.
I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean
But I shall be good health to you nonetheless
And filter and fibre your blood.
out of my way cakesniffers
This Plantagenet king comes from the devil.
Reaper of enemies; strong of grip; One kind with his fathers.
The Satisfactions of the Mad Farmer ... the quiet in the woods of a summer morning, the voice of a pewee passing through it like a tight silver wire; ...
What child has ever known the country and has not twined hundreds of fragrant wreaths with the yellow shining cowslip and the more frail and delicate violet - mingling here and there green leaves culled from the odorous eglantine, or, as we more commonly call it, sweetbriar.
Must not do evil tycoon in garden.
The countryside they
Brave is the thief who carries a lamp in his hand.
Who are you,' it boomed, 'to light a fire here in the depths of Himatan?'
[...]
'Someone who would dare to do so,' Pon-lor shouted down. 'Think you on that.
Wicked Tribe, Rooling Tribe! is the mejor hacker tribe. Too small, too fast, too scientific!
In the Ngong Forest I have also seen, on a narrow path through thick growth, in the middle of a very hot day, the Giant Forest Hog, a rare person to meet.
Aelin of the wildfire.
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Forest is the best port of the wise man!
What are you looking at?" I asked ...
"City slicker. What are you looking at?"
"A stupid wookie man-bear-pig who doesn't know how to mind his own business.
Gervasio Lonquimay
My alar is like the ocean in storm. (Devi)
The godly seed fares well: the wicked's is accurst.
what I meant." Glaser
Knight of the Ill-Favored Face.
Vast is the power of cities to reclaim the wanderer.
Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
He looked like songs, sung to life. He looked life faraway places, planted here in Kayforl.
Esther Duflo, a leading randomista. 'Sometimes
Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood Of vague indifference; and yet with me Thy memory, like thy fate, hath lingering stood For years, thou hermit, in the lonely sea Of grass that waves around thee!
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,
With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,
Steel-true and blade-straight,
The great artificer made my mate.
Toad's ancestral home, won back by matchless valour, consummate strategy, and a proper handling of sticks.
He was a hard shrewd jovial politician, whose acts of kindness served his interest and whose interest was himself. His type is panhuman. I had met him on Earth, and on Hain, and on Ollul. I expect to meet him in Hell.
Belgian stranger - all
Curs'd be that wretch (Death's factor sure) who brought Dire swords into the peaceful world, and taught Smiths (who before could only make The spade, the plough-share, and the rake) Arts, in most cruel wise Man's left to epitomize!
A name with a gently exotic ring to it, like birdsong, like a grain of sand in the far-off Gobi Desert or the northern steppes, whipped up by the wind, carried by storms, swirling through the sky, travelling, crossing whole countries without knowing quite how, and ending up in the crook of my ear.
I may look like a dainty flower, but I'm really a wild weed.
NOTES FROM UNDERGROUND
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
The sweetest roamer is a boy's young heart.
The marvelous Maker!
Sweet is the air with the budding haws, and the valley stretching for miles below
Is white with blossoming cherry-trees, as if just covered with lighted snow.
Amongst the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in a forest?
It is a long way off, sir"
"From what Jane?"
"From England and from Thornfield: and _"
"Well?"
"From you, sir
Kanan is a big road through the Santa Monica Mountains. Between mid-March and mid-April, when you get over to the western side of the mountains, it's populated by Spanish broom - this beautiful, yellow, flowering weed that smells the way I imagine it smells along the Yellow Brick Road.
Astra is perfect.
Yeti. Big Foot. There was some old creature his grandmother had told him about. The Green Man. Half man, half tree. This was him. Beauvoir gripped his stick.
The well heeded well heard.
Good garden of peas!
Sqwaak!" from Fletcher, the environmental crime fighting parrot in The Big Belch graphic novel by Kay Wood.
Maker - their word for worm,