Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Patters. 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 Patters Quotes And Sayings by 93 Authors including Patrick O'brian,Alfred Lord Tennyson,Kate Angell,Jaachynma N.e. Agu,Wendy Milton for you to enjoy and share.
poachers and Methodies, of course. Oh,
A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.
Rat-a-tat-tat."
"Quack."Quack-- Kate Angell
We are pathfinders on a mission, Beholders following the Light, Runners gunning for the prize and Fighters remaining focused ... You have been described, do not accept any other description!
We call them grunters. They're ghost hunters but grunters is more appropriate because most of them are pigs.
Winna ye be gaein' awa', to write buiks, an' gar fowk fin' oot what's the maitter wi' them?
Who is wurs shod, than the shoemakers wyfe,With shops full of shoes all hir lyfe?
Twi-moms! I love them, the little cougars!
Flatterers are the worst kind of enemies.
[Lat., Pessimum genus inimicorum laudantes.]
The hair-color, Streeter decided, of the old men you see sitting on park benches and feeding the pigeons. Call it Just For Losers. #
Screwdrivers, women who screw drivers.
A dull, decent people, cherishing and fortifying their dullness behind a quarter of a million bayonets.
Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors,
Bells in your parlours, wild cats in your kitchens,
Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,
Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.
Stupid, Stupid Rat Creatures!
What if hamsters fought in the American Revolution?
She suddenly felt sorry for these people, for perverting the food of their childhood, the food of their mothers and grandmothers, and rejecting its unconditional love in favor of what? What? Pat did not understand.
They are the hunters we are the rabbits
Nincompoops. (Quincy,
Pel-i-cans, their beaks hold more than their bellies can.
Some players you pat their butts, some players you kick their butts, some players you leave alone.
Tailor gang they rolling up those paper planes.
My men like satyrs grazing on the lawns, / Shall with their goat-feet dance an antic hay.
prestidigitator,
Bursar?"
"Yes, Archchancellor?"
"You ain't a member of some secret society or somethin', are you?"
"Me? No, Archchancellor."
"Then it'd be a damn good idea to take your underpants off your head.
Tinks titties Rache
Jenks
Peeta bakes. I hunt. Haymitch drinks until the liquor runs out.
Fat paunches have lean pates, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but backrout quite the wits.
Latins for Republicans - it's like roaches for Raid.
Well, Kernel, they kilt us but they ain't whupped us yit, air they?
These are the boys of Pointe du Hoc. These are the men who took the cliffs. These are the champions who helped free a continent. These are the heroes who helped end a war.
I wondered who killed Yellowlegs.
a bunch of granola eaters who hate George Bush.
Moujiks. Right. What's a moujik?" the Tsar asked.
"Peasants, your majesty."
"Pheasants?"
"No! Peasants.
Settle your feathers, crusty britches. We
They looked like scarecrows,' Slim said of his troops. 'But they looked like soldiers, too.' He also recalled the heart-rending sight of a four-year-old child in Imphal trying to spoon-feed her dead mother from a tin of evaporated milk.
I'll sit in the park and feed the pigeons for a while.'
We don't have pigeons.'
Then I'll feed the pterodactyls.
Kenneth MacAlpin unifies the Picts and the Scots.
Do you know what the Sharkgard call humans on a ship?>
Stained raincoats, I reckon." "And shitpaper stuck to their shoes.
Noseless and Handless, the Lannister Boys.
This is Pat," he says, introducing me to a man who is also drunk. "Because I'm Pat too! We're two Pats! He's a Protestant," he adds in a stagy whisper, "but we've sorted it all out.
If I had to go to war again, I'd bring lacrosse players.
We liked to be known as the clever girls. When we decorated our hands with henna for holidays and weddings, we drew calculus and chemical formulae instead of flowers and butterflies.
The common herd of "burghers", those cattle, complete with horns, who turn millstones with their bare hands.
Capital," cried Basil. "I could eat a stag, antlers and all. I say they they do make a wonderful nosebag for us wounded heroes, y'know.
Who could not conquer with such troops as these?
The scum of the earth ... but what fine soldiers we have made them.
Just who are the cheese monkeys? And what do they want?
Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus - "
"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout.
We're the propaganda monkeys.
The digital download junkies.
The skunk smoking geezers
With an inflatable Jesus.
We're the kitsch and cool.
Divide and rule.
We got hookers with heaters that'll stray pop and put more shells in your top than Adidas.
Both the Glory and the destroyer We are Proud to Honor Clan Sub-Leader Rash-au-Tal Vergent who Inspires us Every Day had gathered vital intelligence about Ruhar defense tactics and capabilities.
There are stains on their knees, stains on their arses. Dirty Leeds.
They are the men of fancy, the favourites of the sex, who outwardly respect, and inwardly despise the weak creatures whom they thus sport with.
Tortall and the Queens Riders!
An annibaptist is a thing I am not a member of:I am a Pisplikan just now & a Prisbeteren at Kercaldy my native town which thugh dirty is clein in the country.
The Welsh ... I mean, what are they for?
The lifers
who, even seven states away, are the porches
where we land.
Self-righteous and entitled but they swearin' on the bible that they love you when really they no different from your rivals.
We will peck them to death to-morrow, my dear.
But who does hawk at eagles with a dove?
Ducks! Embrace me as your king!
The Alps are a simple folk, living on a diet of old shoes. And the Lord Alps those who alp themselves.
They called themselves "The Febs," which was an acronym for "Four-eyed Bastards.
panchitos, blacks,
The Gatlings at Santiago.
Ally." Peeta says the words slowly, tasting it. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancee. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out. The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up.
Duhhhhhhh, tanks, Buttercup.
To those great geniuses now in petticoats, who shall write novels for the beloved reader's children, these men and things will be as much legend and history as Nineveh, or Coeur de Lion, or Jack Sheppard.
They can march for days without eating. They impregnate every schoolgirl they meet.
They died hard, those savage men - like wounded wolves at bay. They were filthy, and they were lousy, and they stunk. And I loved them.
Weak, tea-drinking, effeminate, ineffectual
masters of India, robbers of South Africa, bedevillers of all Europe.
Players, Sir! I look on them as no better than creatures set upon tables and joint stools to make faces and produce laughter, like dancing dogs.
Squirrels, otters, hedgehogs, mice,
Moles with fur like sable,
Gathered in good spirits all,
Round the festive table.
Sit we down to eat and drink.
Friends, before we do, let's think,
Fruit of forest, field and banks,
To the seasons we give thanks.
Phut Phat knew, at an early age, that humans were an inferior breed. They were unable to see in the dark. They ate and drank unthinkable concoctions. And they had only five senses; the pair who lived with Phut Phat could not even transmit their thoughts without resorting to words.
Tell me, Peppone, what other talents do you have besides erasing undesirables?"
"I enjoy a fair bit of sneaking, sir. I also enjoy pilfering and killing as a professional courtesy."
"What a delightfully horrid urchin you are."
"Thank you, sir.
Birds, birds, birds, I'm a Pet Shop Boy
Seth put his ear against the door. "I can't hear anything."
"There are probably ten of them patiently waiting on the far side, ready to pounce."
Brownies are shrimps. All I'd need are some heavy boots, a pair of shin guards, and a weed whacker."
The image made Kendra giggle.
Fathers - dressed
The TV people. I like calling them that. The TV people. And they have TVs for heads and their faces can change when the channels change.
those ghouls who enter into a macabre dance with pot-bellied netas.
(About a cookbook ... )
- What about this one? Maids of Honor?
- Weeelll, they starts OUT as Maids of Honor ... but they ends up Tarts.
We are gathered here to send our gratitude to Pinnacle Officer Wilcox
and FERTS, for our daily provision and protection from those who would seek to strike against our Vassals, our Fighters and our Internees.
So many words get lost. They leave the mouth and lose their courage, wandering aimlessly until they are swept away into the gutter like dead leaves. On rainy days you can hear their chorus rushing kkpast.
Other times you had a rake of our lads killed, and a rake of the old grey-suited devils, and you wouldn't know who had won the fucking thing, sure how could you tell boys?
We are your army.Army-- Jodi Meadows
Rank, rump-fed harpy.
Call me Silidons, for such I am.
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
We are anonymous.
We are legion.
We do not forgive.
We do not forget.
Expect us.
Once a gunner, always a gunner
My prep team. My foolish, shallow, affectionate pets, with their obsessions with feathers and parties, nearly break my heart with their good-bye. It's
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND
To their terror when they saw the reality of twenty-four tributes circled together, knowing only one could live? Haymitch and Peeta come in, bid me good
Kings of the land and the sky we are; proud gryphons. Stalker stands, the epitome of pride. Naked and muscular, his wings widen and his feet dig in as if he alone holds down the earth and supports the heavens, keeping the two ever separate.
I have the utmost confidence that through your efforts we will eventually beat the hell out of those bastards - You name them; I'll shoot them!
The Monstrous Regiment of Women.
Festus just detected a large group of eagles behind us - long-range radar, still not in sight."
Piper leaned over the console. "Are you sure they're Roman?"
Leo rolled his eyes. "No, Pipes. It could be a random group of giant eagles flying in perfect formation. Of course they're Roman!
Behold them, conquerors of the world, the toga-clad race of Romans!
Let us return to our eagle's nest in the Himalayas. It is waiting for us, for it is ours, eaglets of Europe, we need not renounce any part of our real nature ... whence we formerly took our flight.