Best 26 quotes in «whimsical quotes» category

You must never stop being whimsical.

Why they don’t wanna walk in my shoes, I ask them to come out of their shoes and walk the world in mine and then judge me.

There's something whimsical, satirical, and silly about British humor, which Americans have always enjoyed, and lots of us come over here because we have an audience of people who enjoy it.

Agreements. Specifically, a treaty ratified by all the orders of whimsical like forms who dwell here that affords a measure of security for mortal caretakers. In a world where mortal man has become the dominant force, most creatures of enchantment have fled to refuges like this one.

In her whimsical debut author Brynne Barnes celebrates the colors of our world.

[Sherlock Holmes] has to understand the world. That's very much John's [Watson] influence on him. But like a lot of the friendships and relationships in that world, it's born out of necessity. It makes him better. There's a pragmatism to it. It's not whimsical or sentimental. It's born out of necessity.

Genevieve was familiar with one of the duke's properties- Rosemont- as she'd gone to tour it once when he was away at one of his other vast tracts of lands. It was surprisingly modest by duke terms, a redbrick manor in West Sussex presiding over a collection of softly swelling hills, which surrounded a lake populated by enormous, irritable swans and overhung with willows. The garden had been brilliant with its namesake blooms and the fountain in the courtyard featured a lasciviously grinning stone satyr performing an arabesque and spitting water high into the air. She'd found it delightful. Its pocket-sized, whimsical beauty hardly seemed to suit him, but then he normally spent his time in London and likely had all but forgotten he owned it.

You must not ever stop being whimsical.

Apple Tree Inn, the nightly gathering place of all Winslow residents, and in many ways the core of the town's happiness, always had a warm fire crackling on the hearth and was known for its good cider and company.

Do you know a better time than the present for igniting your dreams?

Flowers lead to books, which lead to thinking and not thinking and then more flowers and music, music. Then many more flowers and many more books.

I love to create vibrant, whimsical floral compositions that are either executed with one single hue or the opposite: a blend of multiple colors!

Hero soon lost interest in the conversation, and left her chair to go and look out of the window into the busy street. When the Viscount at last rose to go she was employed in drawing faces on the dusty window-panes. 'If ever I saw such a troublesome chit!' exclaimed Sherry. 'Now look at your glove! What's more, I dare say Stoke don't like to have his windows looking like that.' Mr. Stoke, watching in some amusement her ladyship's conscience-stricken scrutiny of one dirty finger-tip, said that he thought her window sketches brightened the room, and earned a grateful smile.

He thought he was walking along a dusty road that showed white in the gathering darkness of a summer night. Whence and whither it led, and why he traveled it, he did not know, though all seemed simple and natural, as is the way in dreams; for in the Land Beyond the Bed surprises cease from troubling and the judgment is at rest.

I have only known two men's souls in my life, one the devil, the other the the bird's wings which picked me up and carried me back to the freedom of being.

Argentina. The word itself had lost little of its power to startle and had, due to my ignorance of the physical place it occupied on the globe, assumed a peculiar life of its own. There was the harsh Ar at the beginning, which called up gold, idols, lost cities in the jungle, which in turn led to the hushed and sinister chamber of Gen, with the bright, interrogative Tina at the end—all nonsense, of course, but then it seemed in some muddled way that name itself, one of the few concrete facts available to me, might itself be a cryptogram or clue.

Ocean gusts slunk between the trees, who whispered to one another about The Great White Father being home; how everything was back to how it should be.

In all small things be honest and the big ones will take care of themselves.

Losing someone close to you is more haunting than a life of cursed solitude. ~The Moon Master

Night is the sleep of seven wax moths Dawn is the singing of five mermaids Noon is the scratching of three field mice Dusk is the shadow of a crow

She told herself there had been nothing outside, nothing peering in at her from the darkness. Nothing at all.

Over his shoulder, she saw Skulduggery walk in. "Oh, hell," she muttered. Wreath's smile reappeared. "It's Skulduggery, isn't it?" Over his shoulder, she saw Skulduggery walk in. "Oh , hell," she muttered. Wreath's smile reappeared. "It's Skulduggery, isn't it?" "Please don't annoy him." "Me? When have I EVER annoyed the great Skulduggery Pleasant?" Skulduggery arrived at their table. Wreath smile up at him. "Hello." "I will shoot you in the eye," Skulduggery said. Wreath glanced at Valkyrie. "I think I've annoyed him.

Some people are pragmatists, taking things as they come and making the best of the choices available. Some people are idealists, standing for principle and refusing to compromise. And some people just act on any whim that enters their heads. I wonder which one YOU are. I pragmatically turn my whims into principles!

The older she grows, the farther she walks. It is a good thing the world is round and she is fond of walking in circles or else she might disappear across three times nine countries in the thirtieth tsardom!

The pieces didn't really coordinate and could be described in no other way than 'eclectic', but once labeled 'eclectic', valuable mismatches generally become fantastically stylish. Very similar to the way adding cash value to 'crazy' results in a whimsical 'eccentric'; you have to buy more flattering adjectives.

The times might be unpleasant, repulsive. The ghastly chaos, the abhorrent uncivility might be intolerable, might force us into argument or leave us panic-stricken. On such occasions people build within themselves a conviction, that the world outside is diabolical. The whimsical insults test our level of endurance causing us to plead for mercy, wanting us to be pitied than exploited and victimized. Often this grief and shame form a delusion within us that there no longer exists good in this world, that good people are fictitious and that goodness has lost its definition altogether. But such is not true because there are still people who are virtuous, unselfish, willing to help and possessing the ability of restoring our faith in humanity, to disregard them, their presence would be as heinous as the deeds of the people who are unlike them. The times might be unpleasant, repulsive but we’ll come out it, unharmed and liberated.