#stocking

The former measured six feet and an inch in his stockings, and, without a single pound of cumbrous flesh about him, weighed a hundred and eighty. The latter was an inch shorter than his rival, and ten pounds lighter; but he was much the most active of the two. ↗

— Augustus Baldwin Longstreet

#active #eighty #feet #flesh #former

My heart, for unknown reasons, seems to freeze in motion in my chest. I can see he senses it and he holds his pause to enjoy my suffering, prolonging my ignorance. “Viktor, what? ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#dark #family-saga #gothic #gwenn-wright #mystery

I couldn't wait until I grew up. I used to look at my mom's stockings and put them on with her high heels and mess with my hair. ↗

— Florence Griffith Joyner

#hair #heels #her #high #high heels

A smile is hidden beneath the mustache, it crinkles the corners of his hooded eyes. “I didn’t. I have other business in town and I told my friend I would attend to the matter of his son, as he could not do so himself.” “Very kind of you.” “Yes. I have been looking forward to it for quite some time.” Daddy’s lemonade is almost gone, he sips it carefully, turning his eyes back to the water. “Looking forward to seeing the lad or to conducting your business?” Daddy is toying with him. “Both. You see, I had never actually met his son.” The glass rests against Daddy’s lips, unmoving. Mr. Geyer watches him closely. “But now I have, so I can get on with my,” he fixes his own gaze on the water, as though trying to see whatever it is that has transfixed my father, “business. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#detective #geyer #gwenn-wright #historical-fiction #mystery

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable? ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#death #grief #historical-fiction #loss #love

Christmas is a stocking stuffed with sugary goodness. ↗

— Mo Rocca

#goodness #stocking #stuffed

In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking but now, God knows, anything goes. ↗

— Cole Porter

#days #glimpse #god #goes #knows

All I know is that the fear I have been battling all night is breaking down the door of my ignorance. As my feet slam down I feel not the hard, wet asphalt but the soft Persian rug that led to the staircase in my father’s home. In the glow of lightning the dancing trees are illuminated but I see my mother in the glow of candlelight, spinning, twirling, her hair fanned out behind her. It is falling over me, saturating my thoughts, and I cannot. I cannot let it in. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#dance #gwenn-wright #midwest #mystery #saga

Strip him of equipage and fortune, and such things as only dazzle our eyes and imaginations, but don't in any measure affect our reason or cause a reverence in our hearts, and the poor creature sinks beneath our notice, because not supported by real worth. ↗

— Mary Astell

#imagination