Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Morley. 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 Morley Quotes And Sayings by 88 Authors including Kelley York,Genna Rulon,Jennifer A. Girardin,Arthur Conan Doyle,Nora Roberts for you to enjoy and share.
Briar Greyson, in the bedroom, with the letter opener.
Huntleigh's (Yes, I gave them a cheesy couple name in my mind)
Moriston House is really quite beautiful. No wonder everyone wants to be murdered here.
--Roberta "Bobbie" Aldridge
THE ADVENTURE OF THE NORWOOD BUILDER
our cabin in the woods in Clare.
I should tell you that honestly, on my honour of a Nearwicked, I always think in a wordworth's of that primed favourite continental poet, Daunty, Gouty and Shopkeeper, A.G., whom the generality admoyers in this that is and that this is to come.
Liz Gorman, a fiery redhead, had been one of the founding members of the Raven Brigade.
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.
Living in Manchester was like living on the moon ... wherever that might be
Yorkshire is so much part of me.
I couldn't have made a better shot, if I had been one of those detectives who see a chap walking along the street and deduce that he is a retired manufacturer of poppet valves named Robinson with rheumatism in one arm, living at Clapham.
There are the dirtstreaked glass panes of the bay windows, there are the heavy, moth-eaten drapes, and there, half hidden by the curtains, pointed face peeking out with that familiar worried look, is Elsie.
NIGHTINGALE AND I did what all good coppers do when faced with a spare moment in the middle of the day - we went looking for a pub.
The Norfolk landscape sends a shiver through my soul ...
Kitten, this is my best mate, Charles, but you can call him Spade. Charles, this is Cat, the woman I've been telling you about. You can see for yourself that everything I've said is ... an understatement.
Solution: Winchester.
Mrs MacFarley called the valley the Glen. She called the light at early evening the gloaming. She liked to go Roaming in the Gloaming in the Glen.
of the afternoon Mr. Fitz-Wattle----
I am the ghost in Harrenhal.
NEIL GAIMAN near Kinsale, County Cork 15 January 2001
My house is not James Bondish at all. Sorry.
Having travelled and lived and worked in many different places, I was keen to come back and settle in Nottingham, partly because my family are here, but also because Nottingham is such a vibrant city.
What shall we do now?" he asked.
"Something very dreadful," she said,her voice sour."Ask Arlow Bowlerham for the name of a dressmaker.
You've picked up a rummy habit," James Banister said cordially as they approached one another. "Sort of a crouch. You look a bit ... well, I'm sorry, but you look a bit Victor Hugo, if you catch my drift. Would you like to adjourn to a cathedral or something?
been used to look in Hertfordshire - paid his
Call me Maximilian.'
A sheep farmer. He's a sheep farmer, she reminded herself fiercely. One who lived in Yorkshire, of all places. 'Very well, Maximilian,' she said.
I spent most of my youth in Manchester, in clubs and football grounds and the Manchester Apollo.
Rosemary and Guy Woodhouse had signed a lease on a five-room apartment in a geometric white house on First Avenue when they received word, from a woman named Mrs. Cortez, that a four-room apartment in the Bramford had become available.
of the palace to inform me that Lady Margaret
If Men and Women took their Pleasures as noisily as the Cats, what Londoner could ever hope to sleep of nights?
He liked the Leedses. He was sorry that he had been to the morgue. He thought the madman who visited them might have liked them too. But the madman would like them better the way they were now.
Am dining at Goldini's Restaurant, Gloucester Road, Kensington. Please come at once and join me there. Bring with you a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel, and a revolver. S. H. It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through the dim, fog-draped streets.
At any other time Doug would have been slowing the car, peering through the trees, on the lookout for interesting old architecture. Because Douglas Llewellyn was an architect, the senior partner of
I've just purchased a property, Edward, close to yours in
We currently enjoy the hospitality of the local smith, a gentleman named Heughan.
Only then did she pause to read Juniper's card.Professor James Moriarty. She slipped it into her reticule without another thought. The name meant nothing to her, except that he looked more like a James than an Arnold.
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.
I was brought up in industrial south Lancashire, down the cobbled road from where LS Lowry (1887-1976) lived and painted.
I am Brister Fendlestick. Velcome to my hoomble home!
Good organization," said Magnus. "I knew the man who founded it, back in the 1800s. Woolsey Scot. Respectable old werewolf family."
Alec made an ugly sound in the back of his throat. "Did you sleep with him, too?"
Magnus's cat eyes widened. "Alexander!
This is Buford," Leo announced.
"You name your furniture?" Frank asked.
My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
Godfrey Bertram of Ellangowan succeeded to a long pedigree and a short rent-roll, like many lairds of that period.
I slept in the bedroom used by Sabine Baring-Gould's wife when I was researching 'The Moor,' and later the Jamaica Inn on Bodmin Moor.
Lord Emsworth belonged to the people-like-to-be-left-alone-to-amuse-themselves-when-they-come-to-a-place school of hosts
An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE
MRS ALLONBY You have your looking-glass
LORD ILLINGWORTH It is unkind. I merely shows me my wrinkles.
MRS ALLONBY Mine is better behaved. It never tells me the truth.
LORD ILLINGWORTH Then it is in love with you.
Clare. Give me a reason to stay.
limerick?" asked
Lady Bracknell, I hate to seem inquisitive, but would you kindly inform me who I am?
Is John Motson still wearing his shepherdskin coat?
Steel True, Blade Straight *In 1955, Doyle's family sold Windlesham, which was turned into a hotel. The bodies of Conan Doyle and his wife, Jean, were moved to a grave at Minstead Churchyard, Hampshire.
Victorian and touchingly respectable. "I have been crying," confessed Lady Agatha. "I was afraid so, Lady Agatha," said Emily.
In any case, Watson, you have turned out to be a prize flat-mate. I couldn't have asked for better.
We became Morris and Morecambe. This partnership did not last long, however.
Have you ever seen An American Werewolf in London? Well, I'm not American. I'm not a werewolf, and this isn't London.
This, I soon discovered, was a typical pub. The 'pub' was an invention of humans living in England, designed as compensation for the fact that they were humans living in England.
Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with
There was an innocent piece of dinner-furniture that went upon easy castors and was kept over a livery stable-yard in Duke Street, Saint James's, when not in use, to whom the Veneerings were a source of blind confusion. The name of this article was Twemlow.
Bunter!"
"Yes, my lord."
"Her Grace tells me that a respectable Battersea architect has discovered a dead man in his bath."
"Indeed, my lord? That's very gratifying."
"Very, Bunter. Your choice of words is unerring. I wish Eton and Balliol had done as much for me ...
In the December rain, the vicarage was especially damp and soggy, with an aura of boiled eggs and old books - a perfect setting for our encounter: dark, brooding, and simply reeking of secrets and tales told in an earlier time. Cynthia,
Marshington is here.
An old house that had lived its life long ago and so was very quiet and wise and a little mysterious. Also a little austere, but very kind.
Manchester is a city which has witnessed a great many stirring episodes, especially of a political character. Generally speaking, its citizens have been liberal in their sentiments, defenders of free speech and liberty of opinion.
So, the MacGregors."
"Yeah." Jane nodded with a long sigh. "The MacGregors."
"I don't get what the big deal is with them," Charlotte said.
"If you saw under their kilts, you would get what the big deal
" Annabelle tried to break in.
The dark edge of the moor and the Cow and Calf rock are crisp against the blue-black sky. I can't see anyone outside, watching us. As I shut the door behind me, I hear a noise. It came from the hall. I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck.
There was a writer in the '20s called Christopher Morley, who I remember a little bit of, who had some influence on me, but I couldn't tell you what it was.
Clarissa, sane Clarissa-exultant, ordinary Clarissa- will go on, loving London, loving her life of ordinary pleasure, and someone else, a deranged poet, a visionary, will be the one to die.
Do you think Kinkade is Welland-Dowd? she wondered
Chase burst into laughter so booming that every head on the street rotated, startled.
Oh,God. She'd just understood when she'd said it aloud.
Welland-Dowd.
Well-endowed.
As a Midlander and a big walker, I'd always loved ridge and furrow fields, the plough-marked land as it was when it was enclosed. It is the landscape giving you a story of lives that ended with the arrival of sheep.
Certainly, Doctor. Let's talk about your chair. Victorian?
A flat black bug, that is London.
Me, sir! What has it to do with me? You can hardly imagine that I and Lord Bracknell would dream of allowing our only daughter - a girl brought up with the utmost care - to marry into a cloak-room, and form an alliance with a parcel? Good morning, Mr. Worthing!
away from Clive.
In the name of all the elves in Christendom, is that Jane Eyre?
London is like a dream come true. As I ramble through it I am haunted by the curious feeling of something half-forgotten, but still dimly remembered, like a reminiscence of some previous state of existence. It is at once familiar and strange.
I am now in Gibraltar. It is a large place and there does not seem to be room in this letter, in which to express my feelings about Moors in bare legs and six thousand Red-coats and to hear Englishmen speak again.
Brighton I-don't-know-your-middle-name Waterford, are you asking me to strip?
Sir Trevor Fitzwilliam, baronet, of Blackcliff Hall," he said, "at your service. And you would be?"
"Unconvinced," Gwen said.
Out on the moors,
The lonely moors,
I roll around in sheep poo.
Heathcliff, it's youuuuu,
I hate you, I love you tooooo.
Let me in, I'm here, it's meeeee,
Catheeeeeeee.
Look out of your windooooow.
Doncaster will hit Villa with fire and broomstick.
for sale. Various glowing advertisements of it had appeared in the papers. Then came the first bald statement that it had been bought - by a Mr. Owen. After that the rumours of the gossip writers had
Owen is the most Hitchcockian preschooler I ever met. He's three. He knows maybe ninety word and one of them is 'crypt'?
Matt is a tortured soul,' Amanda insisted. 'He's Heathcliff and you're Cathy. He's Rochester and you're Jane Eyre. He's-'
'Darcy and I'm Elizabeth. I get it. And you're wrong.
The Diogenes Club is the queerest club in London, and Mycroft one of the queerest men. He's always there from quarter to five to twenty to eight. It's six now, so if you care for a stroll this beautiful evening I shall be very happy to introduce you to two curiosities.
Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Barontage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; ...
As a child, I always remember our home, which was a flat just on the Barnes side of Hammersmith Bridge in London, buzzing with actors such as Patrick McGee and Peter Bowles. We were a family who were always on the go.
Mother's tits, Rhys,
A perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us.
Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal the mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne.
I wanted you to know, because you are the only woman I've ever wanted to share my bed with, or bring home. Clare, you are my home.
Gerry?' Laurel had to strain to hear thought the noise on the other end of the line. 'Gerry? Where are you?'
'London. A phone booth on Fleet Street.'
'The city still has working phone booths?'
'It would appear so. Unless this is the Tardis, in which case I'm in serious trouble.
ELIJAH A NOVEL FRANK REDMAN
Someone once claimed I was not really a Yorkshireman!
You're next. It's the next thing. Next stop Kilburn Station. The doors fold inwards, urban insect closing its wings.
Austin sounds a little bit like Aston Martin, which is the type of car James Bond would drive.
In one of the Welsh counties is a small village called A
. It is somewhat removed from the high road, and is, therefore, but little known to those luxurious amateurs of the picturesque, who view nature through the windows of a carriage and four.
"My name is Callum Tate and I'm going to take care of you, Harper Bailey."
Bite me, Rhys.'
'Where?