Quotes of: Rustle Keyword

The tree leaves rustled like that noise e-books make when you turn the page.

Straw House, Wood House, Brick House, Blow

He laughs softly and gazes into my eyes, and it feels like everything stops. The wind stops rustling the grass. We both stop breathing. The only thing that keeps on are the twinkling stars.

Racing Savannah

And that night he couldn't sleep, but lay looking out at the light June night which was full of lonely whisperings and rustlings and the pattering of feet. The air was sweet with the smell of flowers.

Finn Family Moomintroll

Rapunzel: [there's a rustle in the bushes. Rapunzel jumps on Flynn's back, terrified] Is it ruffians? Thugs? Have they come for me? Flynn Rider: [a cute little bunny hops out of the bushes] Stay calm. It can probably smell fear.

Tangled

Though everyone in the bar knew who he was, no one asked him about the death, though one old man did rustle his newspaper suggestively.

Death at La Fenice

Perhaps they were looking for passion; perhaps they delved into this book as into a mysterious parcel - a gift box at the bottom of which, hidden in layers of rustling tissue paper, lay something they'd always longed for but couldn't ever grasp.

The Blind Assassin

...and Jo laid the rustling sheets together with a careful hand, as one might shut the covers of a lovely romance, which holds the reader fast till the end comes, and he finds himself alone in the work-a-day world again.

Little Women

A southern moon is a sodden moon, and sultry. When it swamps the fields and the rustling sandy roads and the sticky honeysuckle hedges in its sweet stagnation, your fight to hold on to reality is like a protestation against a first waft of ether.

Save Me the Waltz

When angels visit us, we do not hear the rustle of wings, nor feel the feathery touch of the breast of a dove; but we know their presence by the love they create in our hearts.

Poems by Mary Baker Eddy

I could have chosen to hide it all and retain your praise but it was still there rustling in my gut with or without your love. To hate me for my truth means you loved me for my lies.

THE YEAR OF THE FROG

At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you fee...

Rudyard Kipling

Timon: This looks like a good spot to rustle up some grub. Young Simba: What's that? Timon: A grub. What's it look like? [Timon eats the grub] Young Simba: Ewwwww, gross. Timon: Tastes like chicken.

The Lion King

When my heart yearn for silence in a crowd full of cheerful people, thats not the lonliness i seek but want to feel the rustling of my abandoned desires pouring upon the broken hearts. All the noise i want to here now is the symphony of love and of h...

Annie Ali

My room was in one of those turrets and at night I could hear the sea and the faint rustle of eelgrass in the soft wind. The weather was perfect that summer. No storms. Blue skies and just the right amount of wind every day. The sailors were in heave...

Love

His grip slackened. His last breath rustled her hair. She felt his soul release its hold on the strands of the spiderweb that connected them, and it was like falling asleep in a monster's lair--frightened of the dark, but too tired to keep going.

Blue Rabbit

I like my coffee like I like myself....making rustling noises inside a burlap bag

And That's Why I'm Single: What Good Is Having A Lucky Horseshoe Up Your Butt When The Horse Is Still Attached?

There is eloquence in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks and the rustling of the reeds beside them, which by their inconceivable relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to a dance of breathless rapture, and brin...

Percy Bysshe Shelley

A garden without cats, it will be generally agreed, can scarcely deserve to be called a garden at all...much of the magic of the heather beds would vanish if, as we bent over them, there was no chance that we might hear a faint rustle among the bloss...

Garden Open Tomorrow

Every day, streets papered with more and more for . Reward, reward, reward. Reward for information. If you see something, say something. A paper town, a paper world: paper rustling in the airm whispering to me, hissing out a message of posion and jea...

Hana

At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament ar...

The Weight of Glory

Chester's playing filled the station. Like ripples around a stone dropped into still water, the circles of silence spread out from the newsstand. And as people listened, a change came over their faces. Eyes that looked worried grew soft and peaceful;...

The Cricket in Times Square