Quotes About Maidens

delicate Adonis is dying Kythereia what should we do? strike yourselves maidens and tear your garments

Through dancing many maidens have been unmaidened, whereby I may say it is the storehouse and nursery of bastardy.

I can't sleep at night unless I've rescued at least ten trees and five maidens in distress during the course of my working day.

The stoniest of greens Plague queens not yet queens Just one beneath can steal the sleep Of maidens counting sheep

At this display the elder and less attractive of the maidens fled, uttering loud and continuous cries of apprehension in order to conceal the direction of her flight.

Statuettes of drunken sailors, velvet pictures of island maidens, plastic seashell lamps made in Taiwan. What contempt the people who think up souvenirs have for other people.

Here was Oxford! From side to side the avenue was filled with a dense procession of youths—youths interspersed with maidens whose parasols were as flotsam and jetsam on a seething current of straw hats.

The Bride maidens rejoice the eyes that wait the coming of the bride. But when the bride draweth nigh, then the maidens shine not to the eyes that are filled.

The seventh daughter is beautiful and wise beyond all measure. She spins the cloud-silk for the King and Queen of Heaven, and presides over the weaving which maidens do on earth. It is for this reason she is called the Weaving Maiden.

Transplantation is not always successful in the matter of flowers or maidens.

I took the sheep and cut their throats over the pit, and let the dark blood flow. Then there gathered the spirits of the dead, brides and unwed youths, old men worn out by labour, and tender maidens with hearts still new to sorrow.

If I have to pick one story that most influenced 'The Hunger Games,' it would be the Greek myth of Theseus, which I read when I was about 8 years old. In punishment for past deeds, Athens periodically had to send seven youths and seven maidens to a labyrinth. In the maze was this Minotaur, and it would eat them.

Just outside the hall, a bevy of youths and maidens sat waiting demurely for the serious business of the gathering to be concluded. They were garlanded in rose-vines, the thorns of which had provocatively pricked their faultless skins, conjuring aromatic gems that beaded redly upon the surface. As we passed them, Beth and I made a sacred genuflection, because we knew the significance of their presence.

Myths tend to spiral out of control. Do you howl at the full moon and steal maidens to devour? Depends on the maiden, he said. Was he flirting with me? Devouring didn't really go with flirting, but his tone of voice did. Was this how werewolves flirted? Hey, baby, if I had to kill any girl and eat her flesh, it would be you... clean sweep

destroying beauty a rose red sunlight; I take it apart in the garage like a puzzle: the petals are as greasy as old bacon and fall like the maidens of the world backs to floor and I look up at the old calendar hung from a nail and touch my wrinkled face and smile because the secret is beyond me.

We think of medieval England as being a place of unbelievable cruelty and darkness and superstition. We think of it as all being about fair maidens in castles, and witch-burning, and a belief that the world was flat. Yet all these things are wrong.

Maidens who stay maidens turn into saints. Old women become sorceresses. Tough jobs, both of these.

For in pure maidens, knowing not the marriage-bed, the glance of the eyes sinks from shame.

The place was famous for always having 'six comely maidens' working there," I said, with air quotes, "'serving the customers ale and aught.'" "What's aught?" asked Tristan. "Whatever you want it to be," I said.

Maidens stand still, they are lovely statues and all admire them. Witches do not stand still. I was neither, but better that I err on the side of witchery, witchery that unlocks towers and empties ships.

Did you never wonder why the old books are so full of dragons chasing after maidens? The serpents think the girls are orphans, and long to get them away in a lair so that they may grow up strong and tall.

It's a fairy tale. A children's story. Not a funny or silly one, but one with blood and death and horror, because that's fairy tales, too. A kid got swallowed by a whale. A little Pinocchio. A little Caliban. It's all there. And, you know, in a fairy tale, the maidens are never dead - not really. They're just sleeping.

Sweet cider now, and punkin pize, And maidens fair, and doughnuts greasy: Who wouldn't be a farmer's boy, So phull ov phun, so free and eazy?

Do not be alarmed if they look paler than the other maidens of Greece. They are scarcely of this Earth, and seem to be shaking off the sleep of a past life.