Quotes About Tara

the remnants of her Georgia drawl always sounded a bit sad. She made him think of an aging Scarlett O'Hara torn from Tara's halls but clinging to her pride and, with the help of a beauty parlor, her flaming hair.

Where did that flashlight come from?" Chloe asked. "My purse." Chloe looked at Tara. "She carries a flashlight in her purse." "For emergencies," Maddie said, trying to see into the yard. "You have any chocolate?" Chloe asked hopefully. "For emergencies?" "Of course. Side Pocket, next to the fork.

She was as forthright and simple as the winds that blew over Tara and the yellow river that wound around it.

Was Tara still standing? Or was Tara also gone with the wind which had swept through Georgia?

Tara made her charming, but the war made her Scarlett O'Hara.

She listened with flesh crawling as Melanie told tales of Tara, making Scarlett a heroine as she faced the invaders and saved Charles' sword, bragging how Scarlett had put out the fire. Scarlett took no pleasure or pride in the memory of these things. She did not want to think of them at all.

She spoke in the soft slurring voice of the coastal Georgian, liquid of vowels, kind to consonants and with the barest trace of French accent. It was a voice never raised in command to a servant or reproof to a child but a voice that was obeyed instantly at Tara, where her husband's blustering and roaring were quietly disregarded.

Tara is the spiritual daughter of Avalokitesvara. She is usually either white or green in colour, and according to another beautiful legend she was born from the tears of Avalokitesvara as he wept over the sorrows of existence. In the midst of a great pool of his tears there appeared a white lotus. The lotus opened, and there was Tara , the very essence, indeed the quintessence, of compassion.

Love is blind, there was no doubt about it. In Tara's case it was also deaf, dumb, dyslexic, had a bad hip and the beginnings of Alzheimer's.

When we reach the intersection with Homochitto Street, I turn right, into town, and soon we're passing Dunleith, the antebellum mansion that I always say makes Tara from Gone with the Wind look like a woodshed.

from the great heart and centre of the Irish kingdom, five great arteries or roads radiated from Tara to the various parts of the country — the Slighe Cualann, which ran toward the present County Wicklow; the Slighe Mor, the great Western road, which ran via Dublin to Galway; the Slighe Asail which ran near the present Mullingar; the Slighe Dala which ran Southwest; and the Slighe Midluachra, the Northern road. Great, noble and beautiful truly was our Tara of the Kings.[17]

Some traditions say that he established a School of Learning. And as crowning glory he established the celebrated Feis of Tara, the great triennial Parliament of the chiefs, the nobles, and the scholars of the nation, which assembled on Tara Hill once every three years to settle the nation's affairs. This great deliberative assembly, almost unique among the nations in those early ages, and down into Christian times, reflected not a little glory upon ancient Ireland.

She must have read Shaw's story a few years before. Yes, that must have been it. She had read the story and clearly enjoyed it, to the extent that she had copied it, verbatim, into a notebook reserved for that purpose. Then, finding an assignment due for my class, she had paged through said notebook, stumbled across Shaw's narrative, and forgotten that Shaw, rather than Tara Tappani, was its rightful author. A simple mix-up.

What strange times are these," says Tara as they wend their way through the dead to safety, "when Muslims must fear other Muslims.

The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled.

Schemas have distinctive emotional flavors: abandonment triggers anxiety,

The act of challenging schemas can take on the warrior spirit of wrathful compassion

Which State Department, exactly, are we talking about? - The one in Washington, D.C.

Hells, Nori-girl, if the Ell called me on it in council, I'd have to swear by the second moon that you couldn't tell a man from a mudsucker.

Opinions are like assholes everyone's got one, but some stink worse than others!

The harp that once through Tara's hallsThe soul of music shed,Now hangs as mute on Tara's wallsAs if that soul were fled.

There's nothing more refreshing than a good dose of paranoia after sex. ~ Tara Cole

Tara moved into the kitchen and went still at the condition of it. Formica countertops, she said as if she'd discovered asbestos.

At Tara in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along their path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the earth with its starkness: All these I place, By God's almighty help and grace Between myself and the powers of darkness!