"Weave" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... to weave crowns for our Scotchman. I believe the fellow is here on his own account, for I have heard that these gentlemen born beyond the Tweed are very vindictive. I should not like to be Groslow, if he ...
— Twenty Years After • Alexandre Dumas, Pere
... the subject as you may think proper. Be assured that they will take it in good part. You may, if you please, at your convenience, return me the suggestions I sent you, as I may have occasion to weave some parts of them into letters that I am frequently obliged to write; the rough draft was made with a pencil & is now illegible. Be assured that your not using them occasioned me no mortification, as I before told you it would not. You had a nearer & could take a safer view of things than myself. ...
— As I Remember - Recollections of American Society during the Nineteenth Century • Marian Gouverneur
... compared to somnambulism seemed at times to disappear. Then your consciousness seemed to spring up for a moment and to take heed of what was passing around you. You would sometimes scamper through the meadows, pluck the wild-flowers and weave them into wreaths round your head, or stand listening to the birds, or hold out your hands as if to embrace the sunny wind. One day when a friend of mine, an enthusiastic angler, who comes here, was going down to ...
— Aylwin • Theodore Watts-Dunton
... burn, No thread weave and no wheel turn; If there's no spindle and there's no wheel, Then no finger the ...
— The Sleeping Beauty • C. S. Evans
... bright-eyed morn; And, with the day-beam's earliest dawn, Her couch the fair Mazelli quits, And gaily, fleetly as a fawn, Along the wildwood paths she flits, Hieing from leafy bower to bower, Culling from each its bud and flower, Of brightest hue and sweetest breath, To weave them in her bridal wreath. Now, pausing in her way, to hear The lay of some wild warbler near, Repaying him, in mocking tone, With music sweeter than his own; Now, o'er some crystal stream low bending, Her image in its waves to see, With its sweet, gurgled music ...
— Mazelli, and Other Poems • George W. Sands
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