Quotes About Devoured

Carlotta hovered over us as we devoured her meatballs, running her floury fingers over the backs of our chairs, then gently touching our heads, the napes of our necks. We pretended not to notice, ashamed in front of one another and ourselves to show that we drank in her nurturance as eagerly as her meat sauce.

I grant this Food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords; who, as they have already devoured most of the Parents, seem to have the best Title to the Children.

As an individual who undertakes to live by borrowing, soon finds his original means devoured by interest, and next no one left to borrow from - so must it be with a government.

Family was a fertile breeding ground for the kind of psychological bacteria that warped minds and devoured hope.

Mud brothers, he thought. Sharers of a truth that could never be defined by the labels that had been created by outsiders. After all, what tiny fraction of America had ever even seen that nasty, vicious corner of the war, that corridor of terror and sorry that had so devoured the few who had?

Remember, the early worm gets devoured by the early bird.

We're the trained dogs of the spectacle…it's devoured our lives, our art, our dignity. But existence is not determined by the whim of politicians.

Knowledge is the power, the cowards get devoured.

They had been unable to move that vast placid mass of citizens, the ones who were satisfied with the government, whatever sort of government it might happen to be, the ones who feared rocking the boat more than they feared being devoured by the boat.

It is infinitely better to transplant a heart than to bury it to be devoured by worms.

But the thoughts were excellent hunters and devoured sleep.

michinobe no / mukuge wa uma ni / kuware keri16 The roadside thistle, eager To see the travellers pass, Was eaten by the passing ass! CHP Mallow flowers By the side of the road — Devoured by my horse. DK

For my 9th birthday, my only wish was to eat like a farmer boy. I had devoured 'The Little House on the Prairie' book series and wanted to be like Almanzo Wilder, the protagonist of 'Farmer Boy,' one of the later installments in the 'Little House' series.

The woman who thinks she can choose femininity, can toy with it like the social drinker toys with wine - well, she's asking for it, asking to be undone, devoured, asking to spend her life perpetrating a new fraud, manufacturing a new fake identity, only this time it's her equality that's fake.

You see the first thing we love is a scene. For love at first sight requires the very sign of its suddenness; and of all things, it is the scene which seems to be seen best for the first time: a curtain parts and what had not yet ever been seen is devoured by the eyes: the scene consecrates the object I am going to love.

The machinery of the Revolution was not to be halted, and like Saturn it devoured its own children.

She already told me that she doesn't have to be nice, so why do I? Because my mother raised me right? That's why wolves always win. Because the rest of us mind our manners and get devoured for our efforts.

There was something, both in fiction and in his life (Nabokov), that we instinctively related to and grasped, the possibility of a boundless freedom when all options are taken away. I could invent violin or be devoured by the void.

It seemed as if, apart from literature, the political had devoured us, eliminating the personal or private.

Because I am about to be devoured by poodles," I quip. "Remember me always, my love.

And, most vivid of all, there was the dramatic epic of the rats - the scampering army of obscene vermin which had burst forth from the castle three months after the tragedy that doomed it to desertion - the lean, filthy, ravenous army which had swept all before it and devoured fowl, cats, dogs, hogs, sheep, and even two hapless human beings before its fury was spent.

But here's a little secret, between you, me, and the rest of the mall: buying shit isn't enough. What we wish for in our secret hearts is self-expression, the chance to reveal ourselves and to be loved for this revelation, devoured by love. And thus, most of us go about our duties of commerce and leisure in a state of perpetual longing, with nocturnal excursions into the province of despair.

They are some of the most powerful narratives human beings have produced, about what we most want (beauty, home, bread) and fear (darkness, abandonment, being devoured), which is why they keep being retold and reconfigured.

Loved heart, what can I say? When I was a lark, I sang; When I was a worm, I devoured. The self says, I am; The heart says, I am less; The spirit says, you are nothing.