Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Fleecy. 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 Fleecy Quotes And Sayings by 95 Authors including Stephanie Pearl-Mcphee,Jamie Mcguire,Zadie Smith,Margaret Cho,Connie Willis for you to enjoy and share.
SABLE- A common knitting acronym that stands for Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy.
Comfortable? I'm fucking cashmere.
At any time of the day, corduroy is a highly stressful fabric. Rent collectors wear it. Tax collectors, too. History teachers add leather elbow patches.
[Fur] is really ridiculous. It's outrageous. We're not living in igloos. We don't need to trade pelts anymore. There is this diabolical idea that fur is fashionable. It's not. It's death. There's no excuse for it.
I don't know who started the myth that sheep are fluffy and white. They were more the color of an old mop and just as matted with dirt.
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
When I create a sports costume, I remember that it must not look - how do you say? - 'bedraggled.'
It is a universally acknowledged, inalienable truth that a knitter faced with the unadorned neck, head, and hands of a person she cares for feels an overwhelming compulsion to smother that person in fancy hand-knits.
linen slipcovers, was as white as whole milk.
Fashion makes the fur fly.
What is the fabric of time like? Black silk? A smooth twill, a rough tweed? Or lacy and fragile like something Mrs. Baxter would knit?
We must scrunch or be scrunched.
I must be honest about the fact that I'm made extremely uneasy by excessive noise, and that I do not care for shouted instructions. If I'd been meant to be a sheep, I reasoned, I'd have been born with wool instead of skin.
Let me just tell you this: I love polyester.
All knitterly creation stems from one simple element: yarn. It is the baker's flour, the jeweler's gold, the gardener's soil. Yarn is creation, consolation, and chaos all spun together into one perfect ball.
Spinning yarns is a protection against the nuttiness ... the greed, the hate all around us.
Nobody needs a mink coat but the mink.
Summer comes over the hill like a hairy blanket.
No one in the world needs a mink coat but a mink.
If we can't be cordial to these creatures' fleece, I think that we deserve to freeze.
These bad boys're what we call Runnie-undies. Keep you, um, nice and comfy."
"Nice and comfy?"
"Yeah, ya know. Your-"
"Yeah, got it." Thomas took the underwear and other stuff.
Denim and doubt, cotton and caution, fell to the floor in a forgotten heap
I have my own sheep and I literally sheer the sheep and knot sweaters for friends and family from scratch.
At 30-below, mushers will begin to put fleece jackets on their more sensitive dogs. Males are affixed with pile jockstraps, "peter heaters," to guard against frostbite.
I like colorful stuff. I like wearing stuff that nobody is wearing. That's why I wear the bear hat. I'll wear the whole mink.
The Pleading of the Summer - That other Prank - of Snow - That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels - know.
Unthinkable clothing
If I must drool, I may as well drool on cashmere.
He was shivering like a Wicklow sheepdog in a snowy yard, though the weather was officially 'clement'.
The first layer of clothing was his jacket, the second his shirt, the third his long-johns, the fourth his share of lice, the fifth his share of fear.
Tangle me up like Grandma's yarn,
Soft as the padded blow of a cat's paw
Concurring hands divide
flax for damask
that when bleached by Irish weather
has the silvered chamois-leather
water-tightness of a
skin.
The softness of the summer day like an ermine paw.
I was a wolf, and they dressed me
in sheepskin
He feels like velvet,
Feathers needed, swan preferred.
Tyrion Lannister was bundled in furs so thickly he looked like a very small bear
Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Ragweed,wild oat,vetch,butcher grass,invaginate volunteer beans,all heads gently nodding in a morning breeze like a mother's soft hand on your cheek ...
Whatever it is, it's better in the wind.
I don't know about you, but I think blankets are the best, especially your own personal blanket.
I suppose if you've always been wrapped in wool, you don't know it's wool.
Personally, I don't wear fur.
I used to wear real fur, but, like many others, I had a change of heart when I learned what actually happens to the animals.
Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care.
I sheep's idea of bravery : To become a wolf's pet.
Ragweed,wild oat,vetch,butcher grass,invaginate volunteer beans,all heads gently nodding in a morning breeze like a mother's soft hand <>ong>onong> your cheek ...
She pretended to find dust ruffles feminine and cozy, but really they were just flimsy barriers beyond which lurked the malign viscosity under her bed.
Theophane gave birth to a magical ram named Krysomallos, who for some reason had wool made of gold. Eventually, Krysomallos would be skinned for his fleece, which became known as the Golden Fleece, which means I am related to a sheepskin rug.
Silks, velvets, calicoes, and the whole lexicon of female fopperies.
An eye-jangling assortment of spurious clan tartans, adorning every conceivable object made of fabric, from caps, neckties, and serviettes down to a particularly horrid yellow "Buchanan" sett used to make men's nylon Y-front underpants.
I think fur looks better on an animal than on a human being. So I dress my dog in a mink teddy.
piece of Turkey carpet
I knit the afternoon away. I knit reasons for Elijah to come back. I knit apologies for Emma. I knit angry knots and slipped stitches for every mistake I ever made, and I knit wet, swollen stitches that look awful. I knit the sun down.
I flee who chases me and chase who flees me.
In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne, I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were, In habite an heremite unholy of werkes, Went wide in this world wondres to here.
Why am I covered in feathers
Soft feathers cannot make a cruel bird kind
Fur is my default, my indulgence. All human beings and myself have a lot of defaults. Many indulgences.
Unless you see de fur, a mink skin ain't no different from a coon hide.
skintight layer of clothing that extends from my feet to my neck that's supposed to help improve my hypertrophic scarring. The Iron Maiden describes hypertrophic scarring as skin that exhibits the three Rs of being red,
The weather was worsening, but winter was not the enemy of the Russian soldier; thirteen million pairs of fleece-lined boots stamped Made in the USA ensured that the Red Army marched in relative comfort.
Shape your coat according to your cloth.
She was enveloped from head to foot in a raccoon fur coat, with a jaunty hat of the same, trimmed only with a bright quill feather.
I love everything soft, cashmere and down. I don't like anything scratchy.
The way bewilderment lies upon me, I have no need of blanket. In
It left a tuft of wool behind, caught on the matted grasses. I plucked it, and held it to my nose. It had that spicy scent of Keir's. I twirled it in my fingers, and smiled when I realized that Keir smelled like a goat.
Back the fuck off fluffy!
A cashmere knit is like a book. It is something to save and go back to time after time. It is the feeling of an embrace.
The staple of our Australian colonies, but more particularly of New South Wales, the climate and the soil of which are peculiarly suited to its production, - is fine wool.
Underneath his steal and wool and boiled leather, Jaime Lannister was a tapestry of cuts and scabs and bruises.
One of my favorite clothing patterns is camouflage. Because when you're in the woods it makes you blend in. But when you're not it does just the opposite. It's like "hey, there's an asshole."
My favorite fur is wild acrylic.
I can't sit on grass without a blanket.
I'm a Black Sheep hopelessly lost in a field of delicious Blue Grass.
Wind whips under my skirt. My tights are no protection against the frigid air, so I burrow deeper into my new velvet jacket, slightly remorseful for not wearing something more substantial. If I freeze to death, I just have to remember it's for the sake of fashion.
Your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm
You're a goose-down parka and a pair of mittens away from Narnia
Speaking of sleeping bags, has anything ever had a less creative name?
I feel very sorry for women who continue to purchase real fur coats. They are lacking in a woman's most important requisites, heart and sensitivity.
Not only is fur cruel, it's also totally gross. I mean, who wants to wear the skin of an abused animal? Not me!
Rogues in rags are kept in countenance by rogues in ruffles.
Anyone that would letterspace blackletter would steal sheep.
A blanket could be used to sell ice cream to streakers. Well, it could, if those naked runners didn't leave their wallets in their pants.
I saw a vegetarian wearing a furry coat. so I looked closer. it was made of grass.
I'm a cotton-headed ninny muggins.
I was in my recliner bundled up in my terrycloth robe, a gift from my great aunt Maureen, that came with some sage advice: darling, after a warm body, a terrycloth robe is the next best thing to cuddle up with on a cold night.
Even if you buy a fur glove with the little trim, and you think 'Oh, my God, it's just a little trim,' that animal got clubbed.
Purplish brown? Let's agree it / is a color so bad we all flee it / it has no good use / so let's name it Puce / from the sound we make when we see it.
His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin.
This soft grass suggests 'softness' to me, but also at the same time 'lying-down-ness'.
Such inbred, bovine torpor!
Hang on. We're leaving grass for road," Breeze warned.
"Remind me to drive next time," Jinx grumbled. "Slow down!"
"Did you lose your yarn balls, kitten?" Breeze laughed. "This is fun!"
(Jinx is part panther)
us in thick, heated towels and bears me to bed.
There's always a way to wear fur,
A layer of fine powder coats his skin.
"My lungs are turning to concrete," Rob wheezes, hacking and spitting.
"So are my eyes. How do I always get roped into these things?" Avery coughs and pats Rob's back in sympathy. A poof of dust billows from the contact.
It is a little known fact that much like birds, who can always find north, knitters can always find yarn.
flaxen mane and tail. The Black Forest horses had a draft-like
We need the tonic of the wilderness, to wade sometimes in the marsh where the bitten and the meadow hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground.
With their souls of patent leather, they come down the road. Hunched and nocturnal, where they breathe they impose, silence of dark rubber, and fear of fine sand.