Ada: I have told you the story of your father many many times. Flora: Oh, tell me again! Was he a teacher? Ada: Yes. Flora: How did you speak to him? Ada: I didn't need to speak. I could lay thoughts out in his mind like they were a sheet. Flora: Why...
Flora: [speaking to Aunt Morag] My mother met my father when she was an opera singer in Luxembourg. Ada: [signing] That's enough. Flora: Why? [pos]
He stood at the table facing Flora and blowing heavily on his tea and staring at her. Flora did not mind. It was quite interesting: like having tea with a rhinoceros.
She said the words, and then she had a strange moment of seeing them, hanging there over her head. "You're going to vacuum up that squirrel!" thought Flora.
I would request that my body in death be buried not cremated, so that the energy content contained within it gets returned to the earth, so that flora and fauna can dine upon it, just as I have dined upon flora and fauna during my lifetime
Flora: Actually, to tell you the whole truth, Mother says that most people speak rubbish, and it's not worth it to listen. Aunt Morag: Well, that is a strong opinion. Flora: Aye. It's unholy.
Do not speak unflatteringly of Jane," Flora said, walking beside Chad. "She is the greatest writer to have ever lived." "I thought that was Shakespeare." "William was, or course, quite good," Flora said. "But no one can compare to Jane Austen.
Flora: I know why Mr. Baines can't play the piano. She never gives him a turn. She just plays whatever she pleases and sometimes she doesn't play at all. Stewart: And when is the next lesson? Flora: Tomorrow.
George Baines: What happened? Tell me. Tell me! Where is she? Shh. Quiet down! Quiet down. Where is she? Flora: He chopped it off. George Baines: What did she tell him? What did she tell him? I'm going to crush his skull. Flora: Nooo! No, no! He'll c...
I think it's degrading of you, Flora,' cried Mrs Smiling at breakfast. 'Do you truly mean that you don't ever want to work at anything?' Her friend replied after some thought: 'Well, when I am fifty-three or so I would like to write a novel as good a...
So many miracles have not yet happened.
I fell in love with flora of all types, especially ferns. Loved the sparse structure and repetition of shape - almost fractal.
Stewart: Where's your mother? Where's she off to? Flora: TO HELL!
To Nature nothing can be added; from Nature nothing can be taken away; the sum of her energies is constant, and the utmost man can do in the pursuit of physical truth, or in the applications of physical knowledge, is to shift the constituents of the ...
I love being in my garden. I don't plant a lot of exotic flora, but I do spend a lot of time outside doing manual labour.
A man's interest in a single bluebird is worth more than a complete but dry list of the fauna and flora of a town.
Yeah, there was the Flora Plum thing, where I trained for about a month and I had taken a semester off for that, and two weeks prior to filming, the financing collapsed.
Flora: [to Ada] I'm not going to call him Papa. I'm not going to call him anything. I'm not even gonna look at him.
Sadly, I hate foreigners. And Americans. And animals. And flora, and some fauna. Also the magma that is the very core of this our mother earth. I'm full o' hate!
Not much goes on in the mind of a squirrel. Huge portions of what is loosely termed "the squirrel brain" are given over to one thought: food. The average squirrel cogitation goes something like this: .
I love your round head, the brilliant green, the watching blue, these letters, this world, you. I am very, very hungry.
