"Drifting" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... are ye wandering aye 'twixt porch and porch, Thou and thy fellow—when the pale stars fade At dawn, and when the glowworm lights her torch, O Beadle of the Burlington Arcade? —Who asketh why the Beautiful was made? A wan cloud drifting o'er the waste of blue, The thistledown that floats above the glade, The lilac-blooms of April—fair to view, And naught but fair are these; and such, I ...
— Fly Leaves • C. S. Calverley
... the proper time! All gentle ministrations to his comfort, the moving of his pillows, the things cooked by his mother's own hands, her watch to play with—all came back, as if the tide of life had set in the other direction, and he was fast drifting back into childhood. What sleep he had was filled with alternate dreams of suffering and home-deliverance. He recalled how different his aunt had been when he was ill: in this isolation her face looking in at his door would have been ...
— Home Again • George MacDonald
... the others. None of them had given her the consolation she sought. She did not want to be told of the past. If Hugh was gone forever, then with him had gone all her love of living, her courage, all her better self. She wanted to be lifted out of the despair, the dazed aimless drifting from day to day, longing at night for the morning, and in the morning for the fall of night, which had been her life since his death. If somebody could assure her that it was not all over, that he was somewhere, not too ...
— The Best Short Stories of 1917 - and the Yearbook of the American Short Story • Various
... had parted; so that the boat, drifting fast to leeward, was out of sight by morning. Reduced, after this, to great extremities, the boat touched, for fruit, at an island of which they knew nothing. The natives, at first, received them kindly; but ...
— Omoo: Adventures in the South Seas • Herman Melville
... daughter, Whence at last we circled back [137] Till we crossed our Stirling track. So our little journey ended, Gladness and instruction blended — Not a care to spoil our pleasure, Not a thought to break our leisure, Drifting on from Sussex hedges Up through Yorkshire's fells and ledges Past the deserts and morasses Of the dreary Border passes, Through the scenes of Scottish story Past the ...
— Songs Of The Road • Arthur Conan Doyle
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