"Strand" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... am trying by degrees to inure myself to the thought of some day stepping over to Keighley, taking the train to Leeds, thence to London, and once more venturing to set foot in the strange, busy whirl of the Strand and Cornhill. I want to talk to you a little and to hear by word of mouth how matters are progressing. Whenever I come, I must come quietly and but for a short time—I should be unhappy to leave papa longer than a fortnight.—Believe ...
— Charlotte Bronte and Her Circle • Clement K. Shorter
... the secret musical box, which played sixteen different tunes. He had bought this handsome relic of the Victorian era (not less artistic, despite your scorn, than many devices for satisfying the higher instincts of the present day) at an auction sale in the Strand, London. But it, too, had been supplanted in his ...
— The Regent • E. Arnold Bennett
... into his tent, He rose, and clad himself, and girt his sword, And took his horseman's cloak, and left his tent, And went abroad into the cold wet fog, Through the dim camp to Peran-Wisa's[173-2] tent. Through the black Tartar tents he pass'd, which stood Clustering like beehives on the low flat strand Of Oxus, where the summer floods o'erflow When the sun melts the snow in high Pamere;[173-3] Through the black tents he pass'd, o'er that low strand, And to a hillock came, a little back From the stream's brink—the spot where first a boat, ...
— Journeys Through Bookland, Vol. 6 • Charles H. Sylvester
... the Life of a Rich Man Forgaill's Praise of Columcille The Deer's Cry The Hymn of Molling's Guest, the Man Full of Trouble The Hag of Beare The Seven Heavens The Journey of the Sun The Nature of the Stars The Call to Bran The Army of the Sidhe Credhe's Complaint at the Battle of the White Strand A Sleepy Song that Grania Used to Be Singing Over Diarmuid the Time They Were Wandering and Hiding From Finn Her Song to Rouse Him from Sleep Her Lament for His Death The Parting of Goll and His Wife The Death of Osgar Oisin's Vision His Praise ...
— The Kiltartan Poetry Book • Lady Gregory
... picking the rope with the pin, fiber by fiber, and slowly, strand by strand, the hard, twisted, weather-beaten cords gave way and stood out on each side in stubby, frazzled ends. The pin bent and turned in his fingers, and the blood oozed from their raw ends. But he held a tight grip upon ...
— With Hoops of Steel • Florence Finch Kelly
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