A Quote by Sarah Orne Jewett

my friends plunged into a borderless sea of reminiscences and personal news. — © Sarah Orne Jewett
my friends plunged into a borderless sea of reminiscences and personal news.
The word-coining genius, as if thought plunged into a sea of words and came up dripping.
Every man has some reminiscences which he would not tell to everyone, but only to his friends.
I'm confused about who the news belongs to. I always have it in my head that if your name's in the news, then the news should be paying you. Because it's your news and they're taking it and selling it as their product. ...If people didn't give the news their news, and if everybody kept their news to themselves, the news wouldn't have any news.
She plunged into a sea of platitudes, and with the powerful breast stroke of a channel swimmer made her confident way towards the white cliffs of the obvious.
Anecdotes, personal stories, reminiscences, like biblical parables, are the medium through which faith is restored. Stories are a form of poetry, and give us a saving image to personally relate to.
I walked beside the evening sea And dreamed a dream that could not be; The waves that plunged along the shore Said only: "Dreamer, dream no more!"
I never take pictures. Skies are much larger in reminiscences and my friends are much better-looking. Photos crop reality into little squares; instead, I have very good binoculars.
The dagger plunged in the name of freedom is plunged into the breast of freedom.
Personal and collective awakening are one and the same - when a raindrop joins the sea, the sea also merges with the raindrop.
Living a 24-hour news life has come at a personal cost. I still wake in middle of the night to check the stream to see if something is breaking, worrying whether I missed some news.
He was born in fury and he lived in lightning. Tom came headlong into life. He was a giant in joy and enthusiasms. He didn't discover the world and its people, he created them. When he read his father's books, he was the first. He lived in a world shining and fresh and as uninspected as Eden on the sixth day. His mind plunged like a colt in a happy pasture, and when later the world put up fences, he plunged against the wire, and when the final stockade surrounded him, he plunged right through it and out. And as he was capable of giant joy, so did he harbor huge sorrow.
One of the things that Flipboard is great at is certainly looking at the news in a realtime format, which a lot of the personal news aggregators don't really focus on, so you can see things right up to the minute.
Books of natural history make the most cheerful winter reading. I read in Audubon with a thrill of delight, when the snow covers the ground, of the magnolia, and the Florida keys, and their warm sea breezes; of the fence-rail, and the cotton-tree, and the migrations of the rice-bird; of the breaking up of winter in Labrador, and the melting of the snow on the forks of the Missouri; and owe an accession of health to these reminiscences of luxuriant nature.
They went to sea in a sieve, they did; In a sieve they went to sea; In spite of all their friends could say.
It is the sea that whitens the roof. The sea drifts through the winter air. It is the sea that the north wind makes. The sea is in the falling snow.
As a guerrilla journalist, I participate in the news by holding individuals who are in the news accountable through personal interactions. That involves confronting people in ambush interviews, secretly recording them, or engaging in a conversation with them when they are caught off guard.
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