#feather

Democracy! Bah! When I hear that I reach for my feather boa! ↗

— Allen Ginsberg

#boa #democracy #feather #hear #i

You kissed me, and I opened my eyes and thought you were Death. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I clung to the memory of you because it gave me comfort—the only bit of happiness I had ever had. You were my secret fantasy, my lover. My story… Lord Death is you, and the woman he stalks…is me.” “Why have you come,” he asked, “when you now know the truth?” “Because when you saved me, you forged a link between us. I don’t believe it will ever break.” “Bella,” he whispered, “I couldn’t allow you to take your life. Couldn’t bear the thought of existing in a world that you did not. ↗

— Charlotte Featherstone

#isabella #jude #seduction-and-scandal #beauty

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all. ↗

— Emily Dickinson

#feathers #never #sings #soul #stops

Is education possibly a process of trading awareness for things of lesser worth? The goose who trades his is soon a pile of feathers. ↗

— Aldo Leopold

#education #feathers #goose #his #lesser

A pun is not bound by the laws which limit nicer wit. It is a pistol let off at the ear; not a feather to tickle the intellect. ↗

— Charles Lamb

#ear #feather #intellect #laws #limit

If you keep your feathers well oiled the water of criticism will run off as from a duck's back. ↗

— Ellen Henrietta Swallow Richards

#criticism #duck #feathers #keep #off

Peter was 2 years and 10 months old when we began to study him. He was afraid of a white rat, and this fear extended to a rabbit, a fur coat, a feather, cotton wool, etc., but not to wooden blocks and similar toys. ↗

— Mary C. Jones

#began #blocks #coat #cotton #etc

I don't need to have three feather pillows in my trailer. I just don't work that way. ↗

— Dominic Monaghan

#i #just #need #pillows #three

As the eagle was killed by the arrow winged with his own feather, so the hand of the world is wounded by its own skill. ↗

— Helen Keller

#eagle #feather #hand #his #killed

Tilting her face back, he looked into her eyes. They were unfocused, unable to settle on his face. And the same terrifying feeling stole over him once again. An acute fear—a final, painful realization—that her world was one of utter blackness. At last he realized the magnitude of her blindness. He couldn’t imagine never seeing her again. It was like a death, the inevitable conclusion when someone was gone. Why it should hit him now, after all these years, he could not fathom, but it was there, and finally he understood her private hell. He’d told her he would die without sight. Selfish, arrogant bastard, concerned with his own needs, his own perversions to watch himself pleasure her, to study her as she accepted him, to watch their bodies joined. How carelessly he had said that, not thinking of Elizabeth and what she would die for. What she wanted in this life. ↗

— Charlotte Featherstone

#elizabeth #iain #temptation-and-twilight #death