My hat was pulled down and this girl said 'Are you really him?' I whispered 'Yeah, I'm really him.' She screamed, 'Mom! Dad! It's Heath Ledger!
My hat was pulled down and this girl said 'Are you really him?' I whispered 'Yeah, I'm really him.' She screamed, 'Mom! Dad! It's Heath Ledger!
I know that's a secret, for it's whispered every where.
Hast thou forgotten how love lives by this,
The memory of some hopeful close embrace,
Low whispered words within some lonely place?
I was accused of every monstrous vice by public rumour and private rancour my name, which had been a knightly or noble one, was tainted. I felt that, if what was whispered, and muttered, and murmured, was true, I was unfit for England if false, England was unfit for me.
Bilbo first finds the Ring, but knows not what he has stumbled into Not far away was his island, of which Bilbo knew nothing, and there in his hiding-place he kept a few wretched oddments, and one very beautiful thing, very beautiful, very wonderful. He had a ring, a golden ring, a precious ring. 'My birthday-present' he whispered to himself, as he had often done in the endless dark days. 'That's what he wants now, yes we wants it' He wanted it because it was a ring of power, and if you slipped that ring on your finger, you were invisible only in the full sunlight could you be seen, and then only by your shadow, and that would be shaky and faint. 'My birthday-present It came to me on my birthday, my precious.'
Somewhere, among bright dreams,
A child that once was mine
Had whispered wordless love to him,
And given him a sign.
Like the Sweetness of Gardenias Mother, you died 15 years ago. pain, a rapier, cut until, finally, there was just peace like the sweetness of gardenias in the crystal vase on your yellow kitchen table. so fragrant. your voice lingers in my ear reminding, scolding, guiding a pleasant mantra of tenderness, magic words that move my palms, your palms. together we are molding, helping, creating. in the mirror I see your eyes, your beautiful brown circles looking back, so radiant. 'don't forget me,' you whispered the day you died. I won't.
My evil genius Procrastination has whispered me to tarry 'til a more convenient season.
That is the flame of love I send to you from afar:
Not a wafted kiss, hardly a whispered word,
But love itself that flies as a white-winged star.
Paul Cezanne never knew that he was later to be considered 'the father of modern painting.' Because of his great love for his work, he never thought of recognition. He struggled for thirty-five years, living in oblivion at Aix, giving away masterpieces to indifferent neighbors. And then one day a discerning Paris dealer happened upon his canvases and, gathering several of them, presented the Cezanne exhibit. The great of the art world were stunned here, indeed, was a master And Cezanne himself was no less astonished. Arriving at the gallery on the arm of his son, he gazed wonderingly at his paintings, and tears came to his eyes. 'Look,' he whispered, 'theyve framed them'
'T was whispered in heaven, 't was mutter'd in hell, And echo caught faintly the sound as it fell On the confines of earth 't was permitted to rest, And the depths of the ocean its presence confess'd.
Till at last there came One Woman, a marvel of loveliness,
And she whispered to him: Do you love me?
The very winds whispered in soothing accents, and maternal Nature bade me weep no more.
The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenements halls and whispered in the sounds of silence.
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, till the Devil whispered behind the leaves "It's pretty, but is it Art?"
For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories