Age has been the perfect fire extinguisher for flaming youth.
Age has been the perfect fire extinguisher for flaming youth.
Well, I don't know too many governors who are flaming ideologues.
He pass'd the flaming bounds of place and time The living throne, the sapphire blaze, Where angels tremble while they gaze, He saw but blasted with excess of light, Closed his eyes in endless night.
That though thou seest it no great matter to be separated from Christ now, yet when the heavens shall be in a flaming fire, and the earth shall give up the dead that be in it.
Certain miracles that I beheld there have haunted my memory ever since a gray April morning of sirocco, when the almond blossoms, the flaming tulips, the young green of the vines, hung as if painted on the motionless air a summer night when the roses had an unearthly pallor under a half-eaten moon, whose ghostliness was somehow one with their perfume and with the phosphorescence of dew tipping their petals a day when the trees stood part submerged in fog, into which leaves dropped slowly, slowly, one after another, and sank out of sight.
March is outside the door Flaming some old desire As man turns uneasily from his fire.
Flaming enthusiasm, backed up by horse sense and persistence, is the quality that most frequently makes for success.
My soul is like this cloudy, flaming opal ring.
My love is an early robin flaming an ember of copper on her shoulders in March and April.
Chastity does not mean abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc.
A flaming nebula
Rims in my life.
G is Grace, the Flaming Star is the Torch of Reason. Those who possess this knowledge are indeed Illuminati.
The media only wants to get the view of the flaming radicals because they make better copy than those of us who are more sensible. I'm a feminist and I think I've done a lot of good.
Nothing splendid was ever created in cold blood. Heat is required to forge anything. Every great accomplishment is the story of a flaming heart.
Ethel Waters, the flaming tower of dusky regality, who knows how to make a song stand on tiptoe.
for love I could not speak,
It left me winded, wilting, weak,
And held in brown arms strong and bare
And wound with flaming ropes of hair.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories