She blushed and so did he. She greeted him in a faltering voice, and he spoke to her without knowing what he was saying.
Quotes about blushed (9 Quotes)
The conscious water saw its God, and blushed.
It ran wild all right. Mind you, although we blushed every time we read the critics' columns, many viewers wrote to say they liked the shows.
The effect of all this was that I blushed one of my overpowering blushes. People told me they became me very much I hope so, for the misfortune was frequent and I think nature owed me that compensation.
Oh, a wonderful pudding Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
The accusing spirit, which flew up to heaven's chancery with the oath, blushed as he gave it in and the recording angel as he wrote it down dropped a tear upon the word and blotted it out forever.
A Christmas frost had come at midsummer a white December storm had whirled over June ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.
I managed to get the four most polite children ever and they blushed through most of the rehearsals. At first, they were very uncomfortable with it and whispered the words. But, they got used to it because all of their characters use swear words.
The Merchant, to Secure His Treasure The merchant, to secure his treasure, Conveys it in a borrowed name Euphelia serves to grace my measure, But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre Upon Euphelia's toilet lay - When Cloe noted her desire That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise, But with my numbers mix my sighs And whilst I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes. Fair Cloe blushed Euphelia frowned I sung, and gazed I played, and trembled And Venus to the Loves around Remarked how ill we all dissembled.