Quotes About Ramble

The promenade is a special subset of walking.

You know coaches. Sometimes they ramble.

The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlor firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.

Well, I can no longer hear the silence." But that's okay, because you are mildly amusing and I am enjoying hearing you ramble on like a Led Zeppelin song. "Oh my God!" "What is it this time?" "Your subtext changed!" Jared's smiles were always

Anyone could ramble on and leave big spaces between the

The sun's down and the moon's pretty - it's time to ramble.

As the campfire burned to an ashy bowl of red-hot embers, the boys would ramble on, piling up horror upon horror, like cordwood stacked under a blood-red-barked madrona tree.

He had the bone-weary look of a survivor who wasn't so sure the dead weren't the lucky ones. He rambled back over toward Myron and unlocked the handcuffs. "Go," he said. Myron

If I'm going to merely ramble, maybe I should just snuggle under the warm covers, think of Miu, and play with myself.

My wicked heart will ramble on in spite of myself. (Arabella)

There was something of the habitude of the wild animal in the unreflecting instinct with which she rambled on—disconnecting herself by littles from her eventful past at every step, obliterating her identity.

The smell of that buttered toast simply spoke to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty mornings, of cozy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries.

I am beginning to ramble. It is evening. The sea is golden, speckled with white points of light, lapping with a sort of mechanical self-satisfaction under a pale green sky. How huge it is, how empty, this great space for which I have been longing all my life. Still no letters.

Which is why I started writing this, I suppose - that and the money Dexitheus offered me, of course, and the prospect of something to do over the winter. Dear God, I really am starting to ramble now, aren't I? I'd better get on with the story, before I completely lose touch with reality.

Thing is, I'm a funny actor, but I'm not good at being funny. I'm going to ramble for a second: I'm an actor who can make things funny in the moment, like in stakes or in circumstances or out of character.

Today, I'll simply wander. Head off in one direction or another and keep walking. Until I feel like stopping.

I am afraid I interrupt your solitary ramble, my dear sister,' said he, as he joined her. 'You certainly do,' she replied with a smile; 'but it does not follow that the interruption must be unwelcome.

walked about a furlong

I made a fine tramp and a fair drover;

and wanders