Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Piers. 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 Piers Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including H.g.wells,Jacquelyn Middleton,Eloisa James,Donna Leon,Aldous Huxley for you to enjoy and share.
London, ... like a bowl of viscid human fluid, boils sullenly over the rim of its encircling hills and slops messily into the home counties.
London is yours. If you want it.
They continued on to London, and she's there, safe and sound, waiting for you.'
'You can't know for sure.' Piers swung up into the carriage.
'You will never know for sure if she's dead or alive unless you keep her near you all the time,' Sebastian said with perfect, if maddening, accuracy.
South.
'But no name?,
'No, Guido. But I'll keep
A squat grey building of only thirty-four stories. Over the main entrance the words, CENTRAL LONDON HATCHERY AND CONDITIONING CENTRE, and, in a shield, the World State's motto, COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.
Go where we may, rest where we will,
Eternal London haunts us still.
That annoying thing that tourists did, opening a feed into London's sea of blue plaques.
Mint-street and Kent-street--those old plague-spots that disgrace and disfigure the fair face of the Borough of Southwark--teem with blackguardism and vice; but here, too, you find that the birds who here flock are strictly of a feather. Cow-cross,
I love the free spirit in London.
It is not the walls that make the city, but the people who live within them. The walls of London may be battered, but the spirit of the Londoner stands resolute and undismayed.
He settles on the Green Animals Topiary Garden in Portsmouth.
Ah remember walkin along Princes Street wi Spud, we both hate walkin along that hideous street, deadened by tourists and shoppers, the twin curse ay modern capitalism.
There's only one London. That's it. We are what we are.
For a fair maid of England hath told me
That the crows are departed the Tower.
So I'll seek for my bailiwick elsewhere,
Sniffing out some new dungheap of power.
Brighton I-don't-know-your-middle-name Waterford, are you asking me to strip?
London knows much, and every momeny she learns a new thing, but this she shall never learn - that the sun shines all day and the moon all night on the silver tiles of her dark house, and that the young months climb her walls, and run singing in and out between her chimneys...
London is a labyrinth, half of stone and half of flesh.
It is the glory of London that it is always ending and beginning anew, and that a visitor, with a good eye and indefatigable feet, will find in her travels all the Londons she has ever met in the pages of books, one atop the other, like the strata of the Earth.
London, how could one ever be tired of it?
Build us a bridge to where you are.
The walls loom, grey as the rain outside. LIke the sky of England itself. Everything seems colourless and humbled, despite the layers of velvets and tapestries, the peacock plumage of courtiers and ladies. Greenwich Palace feels like my father's disappointment made tangible.
prostitute he just murdered. It's called The Camden Town Murder
London perpetually attracts, stimulates, gives me a play and a story and a poem, without any trouble, save that of moving my legs through the streets ... To walk alone through London is the greatest rest.
Don't stay in the harbour and miss the greatness of the sea. Just because everyone else is anchored, doesn't mean you have to be.
Naples sitteth by the sea, keystone of an arch of azure.
The Solent was one the worse stretches of sea in England; the current and tides were atrocious, but it was summer and this time the currents and tides were predictable. However, I did not know this; I picked a spot that I could see from the phone, where I would swim from.
As we drew nearer I saw a cathedral like a crown on the head of a city. In its white walls every window glinted in the sun. Lincoln! Of such places is England made. -No Moon Tonight
On the Jellicoe road
Listen, we got two stiffs and a river of red in a villa in Herne Bay ...
Bite me, Rhys.'
'Where?
My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea.
Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing, under the sky's gray arch. Smiling, I watch the shaken elm boughs, knowing It is the wind of March.
Gluppit the prawling strangles, there!
Brighton gives me the heebie-jeebies. When I'm near the seafront I can't sleep, I can't eat.
I don't know what London's coming to - the higher the buildings the lower the morals.
My favourite place in the world - the south beach at Aberystwyth -has a sewage outfall pipe on it
A letter today from a Mrs Gladys Freeman, 45 Sebastopol Terrace, Blackpool. 'Sir, reference the room you had here during the party conference season. Well, we know what it is. We know who done it. But for heaven's sake tell us where it is!
Embosom'd in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand, Where the broad ocean leans against the land.
Years ago I had a house in Sussex, it was like Arcadia, with an old Victorian bridge, a pond and the Downs.
This Boston voice squeaking out its song. The yellow light goes out the window on the stubs of windy grass and black rocks. And down the wet steps by gorse stumps and rusty heather to the high water mark and diving pool. Where the seaweeds rise and fall at night in Balscaddoon Bay.
Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal the mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne.
In your walks about London you will sometimes see bent, haggard figures that look as if they had recently been caught in some powerful machinery. They are those fellows who got mixed up with Catsmeat when he was meaning well.
The sky over London was glorious, ochre and madder, as though a dozen tropic suns were simultaneously setting round the horizon ... Everywhere the shells sparkled like Christmas baubles.
London goes beyond any boundary or convention.It contains every wish or word ever spoken, every action or gesture ever made, every harsh or noble statement ever expressed. It is illimitable. It is Infinite London.
No matter how safe and lovely your harbour is, leave it to see the insecure and the ugly one; only then you can reach the truth!
Where is he? Bridgerton!" he bellowed.
Three chestnut heads swiveled in his direction. Simon stomped across the grass, murder in his eyes.
"I meant the idiot Bridgerton."
"That, I believe," Anthony said mildly, tilting his chin toward Colin, "would refer to you.
London now has its own John Grisham.
Julian of Norwich,
Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained. There
Lives the man that can figure a naked Duke of Windlestraw addressing a naked House of Lords?
Why should I run all the way down to 17th St. to buy dirty, badly made books whenI can buy clean, beautiful ones
from you without leaving the typewriter? From whereI sit,London's a lot closer than 17th Street.
Skyline reveals a city's purpose and character. Oxford had its dreaming spires; Manhattan its glittering towers; Edinburgh its eccentric spikes.
How strange to read of a place in a book, and then stand on it, listen to the birds sing, and spit on the cobbles if you want.
This is what Lilly loves about London, that every building, street, common and square, has had different uses, that everything was once spomething else, that the present, was once the past ammended
Never was there a dingier, uglier, less picturesque city than London ... it is really wonderful that so much brick and stone, for centuries together, should have been built up with so poor a result.
The City seems so much more in earnest: its business, its rush, its roar are such serious things, sights and sounds. The City is getting its living - the West-End but enjoying its pleasure.
The sea calls us home
London is too full of fogs and serious people. Whether the fogs produce the serious people, or whether the serious people produce the fogs, I don't know.
I used to have a lovely Chelsea loft - then I got divorced.
King Offa's dyke,
I don't live in London - I'm based in Norfolk and have a place in Scotland.
Don't deny me what's mine, Brighton.
The Wharf Street part stood out for a different reason. She
Paris strikes the vulgar part of us infinitely the most, but to a thinking mind London is incomparably the most delightful subject for contemplation.
England? England is in London right?
London has always been a warren underground, and Pall Mall is no exception: secret passageways, Tube tunnels, sewers, cellars, more of London under- than above-ground.
Up the well known creek
The man who is tired of London is tired of looking for a parking space
London is like the grave in one respect
any man can make himself at home there; and whenever a man finds himself homeless elsewhere, he had better either die or go to London.
The sea is my business.
Where the hell has the fourth tower gone?!"
As far as heckles go, it was one of the more unusual he'd been subjected to. Lawrence had spent hours finding an alliterative rhyme for 'crumbling crenellations' - and what thanks did he get? An architecturally pedantic heckle.
London is a riddle. Paris is an explanation.
Tottenham Court Road, and he left a tidy business
London is a city that offers all kinds of temptations, and whenever I go for a walk I discover things that I would like to bring back as souvenirs. But my resources are very limited. I cannot buy anything, and I make a point of taking my walks a good distance from these riches.
In London, I discovered a peculiar building by Holland Park where the globe was shrunk to fit a British perspective, but which had a library with Sri Lankan books I had never seen before.
One thing about London is that when you step out into the night, it swallows you.
I love pubs and I love pub culture.
London Bridge is in Arizona? When the fuck did this happen? Does London know about this? The queen has got to be pissed
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.
London is a roost for every bird.
London darkens the map like England's bowel polyp. There is a whole country up here.
I didn't expect that for every shell on the coast there's a tree in the midlands.
In London I have been by turns poor and rich, hopeful and despondent, successful and down and out, utterly miserable and ecstatically, dizzily happy. I belong to London as each of us can belong to only one place on this earth. And, in the same way, London belongs to me.
we'll be going up to London
It's called a sea anchor,' [Evanlyn] explained. 'It'll stop us drifting too far.'
Alyss was impressed. 'And you said you were pig-ignorant when it came to boats.'
'I don't remember saying that,' Evanlyn replied with a frown.
Alyss shrugged. 'Oh? Well, it must have been me.
Cement in bold relief, - far underground. I lean my elbows on the table, and the lamp lights brightly the newspapers I am fool enough to re-read, and the absurd books.
The paths of London Below are not the paths of London Above: they rely to no little extent on things like belief and opinion and tradition as much as they rely upon the realities of maps. De
In the papers this morning: 'Police closing in on Ian Holloway.' Sorry, it's 'Palace closing in on Ian Holloway.'
When London is a grass-grown path and all those hurrying along the pavement this Wednesday morning are but bones with a few wedding rings mixed up in their dust and the gold stoppings of innumerable decayed teeth
Pirate Frank. Walks the Plank.
Waterfront little shanties like this one had
England is an aquarium, not a nation.
The only place that's holier than St. Andrews is Westminster Abbey.
And at my feet the pale green Thames
Lies like a rod of rippled jade.
How well Horatius kept the bridge In the brave days of old.
I've been doing nineteen hours a day on London, nothing else, I mean this has been my whole life, and writing has been put on one side, and if I'm privileged enough to be the Mayor of this city, then I will not write again.
Colchester, Ash, my captain, staking my body with his cock like a conqueror, like a king.
The Thames Shouldered its way past Blackfriars Bridge, impatient with the ancient piers, no longer the passive stream that slid past Chelsea Marina, but a rush of ugly water that had scented the open sea and was ready to make a run for it.
I like the spirit of this great London which I feel around me. Who but a coward would pass his whole life in hamlets; and for ever abandon his faculties to the eating rust of obscurity?
Hoist up sail while gale doth last, Tide and wind stay no man's pleasure.