Quotes About Handkerchiefs

I collect handkerchiefs. I know that's sort of old-timey, but my mom started the collection for me, and now I have a bunch. Basically, I have a myriad of beautiful handkerchiefs, and I carry them like a grandmother in my purse. And I opt for hankies in any situation.

You know what a clever woman my mother is. "What good," she says to me, "are all his promises of tablecloths and handkerchiefs when he should be sending you cash? The Angel of Death doesn't wait for a man to buy his shrouds…

There is a ghost That eats handkerchiefs It keeps you company On all your travels.

the steamboat left the harbor and it was something in this world, the paddle thundering, the smokestack blowing, and people lined up on the top deck waving handkerchiefs. I watched it

Be as affronted as you please, just don't volunteer anything. If you see what appears to be an opening in debate, remember that it was ingeniously laid down in front of you by Bolingbroke as coquettes drop handkerchiefs at the feet of men they would ensnare.

My family is from the South, and I can remember all those ladies I grew up with, like my great-aunts, who had handkerchiefs. There's something sweet about them.

He gives up the ghost. A violent erection of the hanged sends gouts of sperm spouting through his death clothes on to the cobblestones. Mrs Bellingham, Mrs Yelverton Barry and the Honourable Mrs Mervy Talboys rush forward with their handkerchiefs to sop it up.)

The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye, the wind, travelling, waving them in its hands.

As a girl she had washed her handkerchiefs in the river; or perhaps she had washed the river in her handkerchiefs, because finally the water ran fragrant, sweetened by the beauty on its banks, which was how it

Howl conjured another wad of handkerchiefs and glowered at Sophie over them out of eyes that were now red-rimmed and watery. Then he stood up. 'I feel ill,' he announced. 'I'm going to bed, where I may die.

My family is from the South, and I can remember all those ladies I grew up with, like my great-aunts, who had handkerchiefs. There's something sweet about them.

because they were cousins, used to spend their time at parties in wandering through the rooms, each clutching her bag and followed by her daughter, hunting for one another like people at a railway station, and could never be at rest until they had reserved, by marking them with their fans or handkerchiefs, two adjacent chairs;

Dust billowed around us, creeping under our loose-tied handkerchiefs and into our noses and mouths. It was fine and silty, red as ochre or the brush-tailed fox,