"Smoking" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... walked about they found people sitting on the door-steps of their dwellings, in a manner not usual in a northern city; in front of some of the hotels and saloons the side walks were filled with chairs and benches—Paris fashion, said Harry—upon which people lounged in these warm spring evenings, smoking, always smoking; and the clink of glasses and of billiard balls was in ...
— Innocents abroad • Mark Twain
... have said, was far from Jewdwine's mind that Sunday evening. He himself suggested nothing of the sort. He was in his study, sitting in an armchair with a shawl over his knees, smoking a cigarette and looking more pathetically refined than ever after his influenza, when Rickman burst in upon his peace. He was so frankly glad to see him that his greeting alone was enough to disarm prejudice. It seemed likely that he ...
— The Divine Fire • May Sinclair
... taking his ease very completely in one of those ungainly chairs, with arms extending to long wooden leg-rests, which seem to belong to India and no other country in the world. He had exchanged his coat for a Japanese smoking jacket, whose collar and cuffs could ill afford to brave daylight; and his boots for slippers of Linda's making, whose conflicting colours might have set an oyster's teeth on edge! His own teeth were clenched upon a rank ...
— Captain Desmond, V.C. • Maud Diver
... chief, who enjoyed it in silence, indiscriminately puffing smoke on the altar, to the cardinal points, and in other directions. Ko-pe-li later gave his pipe to Ka-kap-ti, who sat at his right, and Wi-ki passed his to Na-syun-'we-ve, who, after smoking, handed the pipe to Kwa-a, who in turn passed it to Ka-tci, by whom it was given to Ha-ha-we. Ka-tci, the last priest to receive it before it was returned to the pipe-lighter, smoked for a long time, and repeatedly puffed ...
— Archeological Expedition to Arizona in 1895 • Jesse Walter Fewkes
... Harry's got his gruel. He's heard his last shot fired. I knowed it 'ud come to this, and I said it. Eh? Didn't I, now, Paul?' And as the old man spoke, the workings of his lungs pumped great jets of blood out over the still heather- flowers as they slept in the moonshine, and dabbled them with smoking gore. ...
— Yeast: A Problem • Charles Kingsley
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