710 Quotes About Historical

What she knew was sand and wind and innumerable stars. The rumble in a camel’s throat as it swayed over shifting dunes, its trappings jingling in time with its steps beneath her. She knew the sting of thirst and the taste of dried fruit, the glare of sun and the frigid, bone-numbing cold of the air when the sun gave her throne over to the moon. She knew that, to survive, one must often revise one’s caliber, and one must completely depend upon Jesus Christ.

Death "Death doesn't just do people apart. It rips them apart. It shreds the one who's left behind, and even if you put those pieces together, you aren't the same person anymore. All your life, you are just stitching the gaping wounds that keep opening from one place or another.

For my death, ye waited long, Thy minds are worth reviling,With hearts brimful of woeful wrong,A treasure thou art desiring. Inherit now all I give to you,A word of admonition.The pure in heart will gain the prize, This is my decision.So if thine eyes are open,Thin ears quick to hear,You're soon to be awoken,The path, though hidden shall shine clear.

By his grace, before I was even ready for it, I had been made a reflection of God, the ultimate restorer.

No matter how far I traveled or how hard I pushed it from may mind, Jack the Ripper stalked me, invading every aspect of my life.

The stiff night smells like the promise of coming rain, though its scent is doused by the strong odor of corn mash fermenting with yeast. Afar off a coyote howls, then a bit later a screech owl, and in between shivers and sighs of smaller night creatures.

Lord help the girl he set those eyes on for good. His boyish vulnerability was a weapon, powerful and disarming.

Women were a crossword puzzle: the seemingly perfect word was met with too many letters

Charlotte Richmond says of herself: “I have few ladylike accomplishments. I cannot sing, I cannot draw, I cannot play the pianoforte or the harp and I cannot produce delicately beautiful embroideries. Sadly, the ability to do quantities of mending, to cook a good plain dinner and to shoot a marauding crocodile as I once did, is not appreciated in Polite Society.