Give me the purple smoke, rising higher and higher into my brain until I dance with the purple butterflies.” -Girl with the violet eyes.
The rain echoed in the shadowy attic space and made me feel small and fragile, like a lace glove left behind on moving day - mateless and abandoned.
The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
Helen Sustained many falls throughout her life. But as you can see, she steps right up and keeps on going. Falling to her is as natural as sneezing to us
He will give his life, for anything he feels has more of a right to live than he. Make no mistake, Elias. He's a Reed. It's what he does.
I feel like you have to tell people who you are, but you don't have to be disrespectful about it. But you also don't have to be a shrinking violet.
Violet Bick: [seeing George across the street] Excuse me. I think I got a date. But er... stick around fellas just in case, huh?
Dae-su Oh: If you stand aimlessly at a phone booth on a rainy day, and meet a man whose face is covered by a violet umbrella, I'd suggest that you get close to the TV.
Charlie Bucket: [as Violet blows up into a blueberry] Why won't she listen to Mr. Wonka? Grandpa Joe: Because, Charlie, she's a nitwit.
Violet: Shelly knows what I am. He saw me in a bar with another woman. Corky: Yeah, I suppose he just wants to watch.
Violet: I want what's mine; I want half the money. We get rid of Mickey, and no one else dies. No one. Say, "Yes, I understand." Ceasar: Yes, I unnerstan'.
Like some winter animal the moon licks the salt of your hand, Yet still your hair foams violet as a lilac tree From which a small wood-owl calls.
Finally I find it, the book, but as I’m pulling it out of the stack I hear a noise coming from my toy room. It sounds like scratching or scraping maybe and my mind instantly goes to the possibility that maybe it’s a monster or a dragon or somethi...
Sunny held Kit, and Violet held Klaus, and for a minute the four castaways did nothing but weep, letting their tears run down their faces and into the sea, which some have said is nothing but a library of all tears in history.
Perhaps I won't marry then. Instead, you and I shall live as spinsters in a cottage by the sea. We'll burn our corsets, eat chocolate morning, noon and night and grow fat as hedgehogs.
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violets dandelions And the big bullying daisies through the field wonderful with eyes a little sorry Another comes also picking flowers
I had failed him; I knew it. But I could do no more. It was beyond my strength. That night, I think, he explored the uttermost depths of his loneliness.
What happened to Violet was terrible, and I’m not saying fate happens without blame. But when fate turns out well, everyone should forget the bad road that got us here.
I wondered what he would have thought if he'd known that I'd gleaned most of my information from reading historical romance novels.
He just wanted to get through his uninteresting day, so he could cross over into the night, and find his way to the red headed light that brightened the black sky.
I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.
