Quotes About Barges

In the offing the sea and the sky were welded together without a joint, and in the luminous space the tanned sails of the barges drifting up with the tide seemed to stand still in red clusters of canvas sharply peaked, with gleams of varnished sprits. A haze rested on the low shores that ran out to sea in vanishing flatness. The air was dark above Gravesend, and farther back still seemed condensed into a mournful gloom, brooding motionless over the biggest, and the greatest, town on earth.

The river this morning was brown and sluggish with a never-ending flotilla of barges and boats, the commerce of the city. No lilacs here. No scent of a hay meadow or of a stand of lime trees, only the stink of a noxious city. Frobisher felt his soul shrivel.

The cash-strapped Scott didn't simply agree to stop refining oil but offered Standard Oil a huge fire sale of assets—refineries, storage tanks, pipelines, a fleet of steamships, tugboats, barges, loading docks—in fact, far more than Standard could afford.

Why did people do it? Why this herd curiosity about a street, a house, windows, doors? He was a public servant, the Inspector mused, but there were times when he would enjoy loading all the rubbernecks onto barges and towing them out to sea to be served, with ceremony, to sharks.

Sometimes we would be staked out in the middle of the river, several barges tied together. So we could party.

Anima is walking along the promenade of the waterway that bisects her city, a few early morning barges cruise slowly by

Am a is walking along the promenade of the waterway that bisects her city, a few early morning barges cruise slowly by. This is not about feeling something or about speaking words this is about being together.

Martin Trebeaux had purchased a fleet of marine barges using the proceeds from a poshly falsified BP oil-spill claim.

The UN is all screams and twitters, like a ladies' room when a guy barges in. A

The night and the stars, the dawn coming up, the barges swimming past, the sun setting.... Ah dear, she sighed, well, the sunset is very lovely too. I sometimes think that poetry isn't so much what we write as what we feel, Mr. Denham.

If you have read many adventure novels, you'll know that spies spend about half of their time in the sewers. They run along sewer tunnels, shooting. They find secret hideaways in sewers. They take weird funeral barges through sewers, poled along by old men in hoods. In fact, if a spy's kid wants to get a message to their mom or dad, the easiest way to do it is just to flush it down the toilet.

in camp to the last man and horse safely aboard the barges two miles away. It took them just over an hour and a half,

Wind was a major factor. Even a light breeze could upset the invasion barges,

counselled vehemently against the flat-bottomed barges,