Though we eat little flesh and drink no wine, Yet let's be merry; we'll have tea and toast; Custards for supper, and an endless host Of syllabubs and jellies and mincepies, And other such ladylike luxuries.
There's always the dinner rolls," said Will, pointing to a covered basket. "Though I warn you, they're as hard as stones. You could use them to kill black beetles, if any beetles bother you in the middle of the night.
It's been so long since I've let myself feel anger that I don't just feel it. It covers my mouth and I swallow it down, the taste sharp and metal as though I'm gnawing through foilware.
Rhysand yelled my name again - yelled it as though he cared. I blacked out, but she brought me back, ensuring that I felt everythingm ensuring that I screamed every time a bone broke.
I’ve got a new friend, all right. But what a gamble friendship is! Charlotte is fierce, brutal, scheming, bloodthirsty—everything I don’t like. How can I learn to like her, even though she is pretty and, of course, clever?
She respected her husband in the same way as she respected the General Post Office, as something large, secure and fixed: and though she knew the small number of his talents she appreciated his abstract value as a male.
In the Modern Age, there are still those who refuse to contradict a single word of the Bible, even though the Bible contradicts itself.
Love could end even though it was true love. Love could be false love, or the wrong kind of love, or love that came at the wrong time to the right people, or at the right time to the wrong people.
He had to do so many things and make each appear as though it were the only thing he had to do. He had to compartmentalize everything, when on one task to pretend that the others didn't exist.
How can I clearly see what’s wrong with someone else, and then look at myself as though I’m standing in front of a fogged mirror?
In reality, though, most of the time we don’t choose the best option—we choose the first reasonable option, a strategy known as satisficing.
But if love had to die, I wanted it to die quickly. It was as though our love were a small creature caught in a trap and bleeding to death: I had to shut my eyes and wring its neck.
Even though Sean still held my head down I was the only one who thought to ask "Who's driving the boat?" Over the motor I heard girls screaming at us the instant before we crashed.
But it is not only the difficulty and labor which men take in finding out of truth, nor again that when it is found it imposeth upon men's thoughts, that doth bring lies in favor; but a natural though corrupt love of the lie itself.
But alas, my dear child, we are the slaves of custom, the dupes of prejudice, and dare not stem the torrent of the opposing world, even though our judgments condemn our compliance! However, since the die is cast, we must endeavor to make the best of ...
She spoke with the usual cadences of the young: sentences curling upward at the end, all statements fading into a smoky, implied question mark, as though nothing could be said with any reasonable certainty.
It's a funny things about human nature. Nobody ever wonders why they've got a healthy brother or a perfect kiddie. Anything goes wrong, though, we soon start why, oh why...
I prefer my history dead. Dead history is writ in ink, the living sort in blood." "Do you want to die old and craven in your bed?" "How else? Though not till I'm done reading.
Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.” “Sir?” “It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are authority.” “Sir?” “That’s practically zen.
The image isn't reality. Even though we're used to thinking that way alot of the time. We show a kid a picture of a dog and say 'This is a doggie' - but it's not. It's just an image.
But this lump does not absolve me, because I got it through heedlessness, not though courage. I run my tongue over my lip and what do I do? I write. But bad literature brings no redemption.
