"Parch" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... preferred to burgundy, "if not perhaps for their flavour, yet for their wholesomeness, the vines of the Ile de France or vins francais, which agree, he says, with scholars, invalids, the bourgeois, and all other persons who do not devote themselves to manual labour; for they do not parch the blood, like the wines of Gascony, nor fly to the head like those of Orleans and Chateau-Thierry; nor do they cause obstructions like those of Bordeaux." This is also the opinion of Baccius, who in his ...
— Manners, Custom and Dress During the Middle Ages and During the Renaissance Period • Paul Lacroix
... to no man; or that under the influence of his rays the colour of the skin changes, but under the rays of fire not. (20) He forgot that no plant or vegetation springs from earth's bosom with healthy growth without the help of sunlight, whilst the influence of fire is to parch up everything, and to destroy life; and when he came to speak of the sun as being a "red-hot stone" he ignored another fact, that a stone in fire neither lights up nor lasts, whereas the sun-god abides for ever with ...
— The Memorabilia - Recollections of Socrates • Xenophon
... a drought To parch the fields forlorn, The rain to flood the meadows with mud, The blight to blast the corn, To Him I leave to guide The bolt in its crooked path, To strike the miser's rick, and show ...
— The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood • Thomas Hood
... the branches above me looked wisely. He was wondering how long before the green burrs would parch and give him their brown chestnuts. I was contemplating a metaphysical burr. I wanted to remain true to Phyllis, though there wasn't any sense in my doing so. Had Gretchen resembled any one but Phyllis I never should have been in such a predicament. I should have gone away the day after my arrival. ...
— Arms and the Woman • Harold MacGrath
... the weary traveller tempest-tost To reach secure at length his native coast, Who wandering long o'er distant lands has sped, The night-blast wildly howling round his head, Known all the woes of want, and felt the storm Of the bleak winter parch his shivering form; The journey o'er and every peril past Beholds his little cottage-home at last, And as he sees afar the smoke curl slow, Feels his full eyes with transport overflow: So from the scene where Death ...
— Poems • Robert Southey
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