Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Wisp. 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 Wisp Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including James Patterson,Michel De Montaigne,Marianne Moore,Douglas Wickard,Joel Benton for you to enjoy and share.
Move over, Wimpy Kid - RAFE K. has arrived!
How many quarrels, and how important, has the doubt as to the meaning of this syllable "Hoc" produced for the world!
Concurring hands divide
flax for damask
that when bleached by Irish weather
has the silvered chamois-leather
water-tightness of a
skin.
~EDITORIAL REVIEW~
" ... Wickard will have readers on edge ..."
" ... a methodical, white-knuckled grip of the throat, the tension getting tighter."
"A leisurely paced but ultimately rewarding, riveting thriller."
Pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite,
All are on their rounds tonight;
In the wan moon's silver ray,
Thrives their helter-skelter play.
Wit,
the pupil of the soul's clear eye.
Yesterday the twig was brown and bare;
To-day the glint of green is there;
Tomorrow will be leaflets spare;
I know no thing so wondrous fair,
No miracle so strangely rare.
I wonder what will next be there!
Everyone knows a Wixen when we smell one. You smell the prettiest, a mixture of strawberries, sex and deceit. Dior should bottle it.
I had gone away from Twitter because before people had been so mean to me. Talking about my lisp and my enormous forehead and all these things. I do have a lisp, I do have a forehead I know you could land a plane on, it's no mystery to me. I just didn't have the skin for it.
poxy shitweasel,
Whittle was an amazing chap. Tiny, stubborn, unstoppable - jet-propelled! It's amazing the impact his invention has had upon the world.
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.
Tchitcherine: "You mean thiophosphate, don't you?" Thinks indicating the presence of sulfur ... Wimpe: "I mean theophosphate, Vaslav," indicating the Presence of God.
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)
By wit we search divine aspect above,
By wit we learn what secrets science yields,
By wit we speak, by wit the mind is rul'd,
By wit we govern all our actions;
Wit is the loadstar of each human thought,
Wit is the tool by which all things are wrought.
Who's that, the windbreaker?
Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume; The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves. Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound; When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam; Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.
misbegotten cockwaffle.
In my position, the right witchdoctor
Might have caught you in flight with his bare hands,
Tossed you, cooling, one hand to the other,
Godless, happy, quieted.
I managed
A wisp of your hair, your ring, your watch, your nightgown.
Many species of wit are quite mechanical; these are the favorites of witlings, whose fame in words scarce outlives the remembrance of their funeral ceremonies.
Someone has to stand up for wimps.
Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us together today.
A witch is just a girl who knows her mind.
Hot damn, Wip. We've got a stone-cold fox on our hands."
Willa flipped Ginger the bird without looking away from the full-length mirror. "This touching family sitcom moment brought to you by the letters F and U.
fiddlesticks" and
I suppose I should learn Lisp, but it seems so foreign.
Father, it's Wistala. Wistala."
Father grimaced. "You're a star, Wistala - I saw you twinkling beneath dear Irelia last night. You, Auron, and Jizara all in a row. I'll be up there soon. Wait.
Wit is an unexpected explosion of thought.
We're lucky to have you, Featherwhisker," Dappletail meowed. No cat spoke up for Goosefeather. With
Nothing but a speck we seem In the waste of waters round, Floating, floating like a dream, Outward bound.
life. Wisteria had never felt so free since answering Lee's summons and journeying to White Mountain. Sadly, though, there hadn't been time for her and Ben to have
I am the witch of my mystical world.
Julian: What's black inside, white outside, and hot?
Jenny: What?
Julian: A wolf in sheep's clothing.
Jenny: Is that what you are?
Julian: Me? No, I'm a wolf in wolf's clothing.
There is a man in Bolingbroke who lisps and always testifies in prayer-meeting. He says, 'If you can't thine like an electric thtar thine like a candlethtick.
Wisteria is my favorite flowering vine. Do you know why?'
I shook my head. 'No, ma'am.'
'Because it's strong
just like me.
Marry a widdow before she leave mourning.
Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?
A moment later Jonathan's body wavered in the air, shimmering, and began to go transparent. Don't let them spread silly rumors about me, or make me a god. O.K., Fletch? I'm a seagull. I like to fly, maybe ...
It was a summer shower but didn't appear to know it, and it was pouring rain as fast as a winter storm. Miss Perspicacia Tick sat in what little shelter a raggedy hedge could give her and explored the universe. She didn't notice the rain. Witches dried out quickly.
Squirrelpaw!" Brambleclaw's
Nuzleaf Grass/Dark
Wit gives an edge to sense, and recommends it extremely.
Deer Reeder: First may I say, sorry for any werds I spel rong. Because I am a fox! So don't rite or spel perfect.
The barberry berry sticks on the small hedge,
cold slits the same crease in the finger,
the same thorn hurts. The leaf repeats the lesson.
I know'd my name to be Magwitch, chrisen'd Abel. How did I know it? Much as I know'd the birds' names in the hedges to be chaffinch, sparrer, thrush. I might have thought it was all lies together, only as the birds' names come out true, I suppose mine did.
Wit is the lightning of the mind, reason the sunshine, and reflection the moonlight ...
The tinkle of a wind chime stirred from over a window. Purple and white phlox cascaded cheerfully over the top of a nearby stone wall. Sunlight sifted through the weave of her straw hat, casting freckles of light on her nose and cheeks that shifted, out of focus, as she walked.
dentition and witch-like pointed features.
The thought hath good leggs, and the quill a good tongue.
Wamblecropt is the most exquisite word in the English language. Say it. Each syllable is intolerably beautiful.
My Swaraj takes note of bhangis, dheds, dublas and the weakest of the weak, and except the spinning wheel I know no other thing which befriends all these.
THE GRACKLE
The
The Thickety is a sinister, magical debut with a marvelous and shocking heroine. J.A. White's elegant writing and masterful plot kept me turning pages late into the night.
Witch. A goddess. Someone not of this earth but not apart from it either. A woman to be loved and feared and adored.
Wolves are the witches of the animal world.
Gently I stir a white feather fan,
With open shirt sitting in a green wood.
I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;
A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head.
The last cobwebs
of fog in the
black firtrees are flakes
of white ash in the world's hearth.
the incessant seethe of grasses
Wit is like caviar - it should be served in small portions and not spread about like marmalade.
Tis an ill wind that blows no minds
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
ken whit tae dae wi' it.
You see a wile, you thwart. Am I right?
waif. They would hear his reedy voice, the one he'd had in the war. He swallowed, knew that all he had for a voice box was a little whistle cut from a willow switch. Worse - he had nothing to say. The crowd
It's a thingy! A fiendish thingy!
Wolf! Right here and now!Wolf-- Peter Straub
I
this thought which is called I
is the mould into which the world is poured like melted wax.
Squee-squee-squawky-squiggly-squee.-- Eric Arvin
Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!
An ill winde that bloweth no man to good.
Wit ought to be a glorious treat, like caviar. Never spread it about like marmalade.
Even you couldn't have magicked that into being, witch,
What was that shuck thing?" -Minho
"Magic goop that eat's people's heads, that's what it bloody was." -Newt
Lots of little Bigwigs, Hazel! Think of that, and tremble!
Whiffle [whine and wheeze and snuff and sniffle]: The annoying scratchy sound made by weepy feminists as they lament the sufferings of women and, houndlike, sniff out evidence of male oppression.
Away, you mouldy rogue, away!
I like the way the word Witch connects us back through all the generations of those who went before us who harnessed the power of the elements and magick to improve their lives and deepen their connection with the natural world.
Take a portion of wit, And fashion it fit, Like a needle, with point and with eye: A point that can wound, An eye to look round, And at folly or vice let it fly
Mom," said Peter, "nobody thinks you're a lackwit, if that's what you're worried about."
Lackwit? In what musty drawer of some dead English professor's dust-covered desk did you find that word? I assure you that never in my worst nightmares did I ever suppose that I was a lackwit.
Wiv difficulty 'an injinuity. Jest bein' smart, like.
Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face.
Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood.
You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?
For if I wimp my wing on thine. Affliction shall advance the flight in me.
Winna ye be gaein' awa', to write buiks, an' gar fowk fin' oot what's the maitter wi' them?
A witch is wise. She has earned her wisdom. She has learned to love her shadows and has grown more beautiful because of it. She has proven she can stand comfortably within her powers. She has become the true embodiment of a witch.
I feel the fluttering
of dragonflies - summer creatures
that have no use for words.
I'm not witch. I'm your wife.
In the spring, Jeeves, a livelier iris gleams upon the burnished dove."
"So I have been informed, sir."
"Right ho! Then bring me my whangee, my yellowest shoes, and the old green Homburg. I'm going into the Park to do pastoral dances.
Peeple of zee wurl, relax
You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione.
Sometimes when I need to comfort myself (all the time) I think about your lisp and it creates a wombskin around my brain full of barbituratesque nectar, the side effects of which include a horny surge in my second chakra and pussy, and then severe withdrawal: a love story.
Shew me a lyer, and I'le shew thee a theefe.
Wolf-Rayet stars
Hello kerplunk, this is my dear friend pitter patter.
a misbegotten cockwaffle.
The cool blade
Severs between coolness, apple-rind
Compelling a recognition.
And, as a mere matter of ficfect, I tell of myself how I popo possess the ripest littlums wifukie around the globelettes globes (...)
in spite of the cold, this ash tree does not shy
from shrugging off its coat, sloping its nude
shoulders to the night. So, you said, undo,
unbutton, unclasp, slowly remove. Let down your
hair, breathe out. Stand stark in this room until
we remember how not to feel the chill.
Well, She's (She-Hulk) quippy. I'm quippy. When we get together, we quip. And, quipwise, I think that makes me a better quipper. -Spiderman
You know, people ask me. They say 'Dan, three years later do you really want to be drawing cat whiskers on your face?' but they don't understand. The cat whiskers, they come from within.