A Quote by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

As the moths around a taper, As the bees around a rose, As the gnats around a vapour, So the spirits group and close Round about a holy childhood, as if drinking its repose.
My childhood was great, honestly. I have all these incredible memories of my childhood. I was an only child. I always had all my cousins around. I had my grandparents around. I had my parents around. I had my uncles around - whatever.
I have asked the village blacksmith to forge golden chains to tie our ankles together. I have gathered all the gay ribbons in the world to wind around and around and around and around and around and around again around our two waists.
Vampires get the joy of flying around and living forever, werewolves get the joy of animal spirits. But zombies, they're not rich, or aristocratic, they shuffle around. They're a group phenomenon, they're not very fast, they're quite sickly. So what's the pleasure of being one?
I feel like an expressionist nihilist deep in my heart. And I think nihilism can stop the wheel from going around, around, around, around, around - saying the same thing, reacting the same way.
You can't pretend there has ever been anyone come close to doing what I did. Nobody you could name could touch me, and I'm talking about nobody who's around now, nobody who was around in my prime, and nobody who was around any time you can mention outta your mouth.
To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flames from wasting by repose.
I think back to my childhood, and I remember running around as a kid. We were all running around then. It wasn't about getting into shape. It's just what we did.
Once upon a time the world was round, and you could go on it around and around.
I said, the poets are there I hear them singing and lying around their round table and around me still.
I'm not a philosopher, Harry," [Michael] said. "But here's something for you to think about, at least. What goes around comes around. And sometimes you get what's coming around." He paused for a moment, frowning faintly, pursing his lips. "And sometimes you are what's coming around.
As he did so, a wind rose up around him, around the man who had been called lord, Dragon Reborn, king, killer, lover and friend.
I wish there were a class where we could just keep going around the circle. around and around, until we had finally said everything about ourselves.
I think I'm a journalist in one sense - I want to communicate to people about certain things that are happening around us, around the world, close or far. In order to transform this information into art you have to add poetry. It's essential.
The butterfly long loved the beautiful rose, And flirted around all day; While round him in turn with her golden caress, Soft fluttered the sun's warm ray.... I know not with whom the rose was in love, But I know that I loved them all. The butterfly, rose, and the sun's bright ray, The star and the bird's sweet call.
I softly sink into the bath of sleep: With eyelids shut, I see around me close The mottled, violet vapors of the deep, That wraps me in repose.
Like bees around honey. Why are bees so attracted to honey, since they make it? It can only be vanity.
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