"Bluebell" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... of the limestone parapet grew a white bluebell—the only one Rue had ever seen. As long as she could remember it had come up there every year and bloomed, snow-white amid a world of its blue comrades in the grass below. She looked for it now, saw it in bud—three sturdy stalks sprouting at right angles from the wall and curving up parallel to ...
— The Dark Star • Robert W. Chambers
... companion that Jan could see, though his hand was outstretched in sympathy with his words. He was looking upwards, too, as Jan was wont to look himself, into that azure sky which he was trying to paint in bluebell flowers. ...
— Jan of the Windmill • Juliana Horatia Ewing
... courage and perseverance; they suggest a contact with nature which otherwise might never be developed. Where angels and archangels overawe by their omnipotence, the microscopic fairies who can sit singing upon a mushroom and dangle from the swaying stem of a bluebell, carry the thoughts down the scale of life to the little and really important things. A sleepy child will rather believe that the Queen of the Fairies is acting sentry upon the knob of the bedpost than that an angel stands at the head of the cot with great wings spread in protection—wings ...
— The Treasury of Ancient Egypt - Miscellaneous Chapters on Ancient Egyptian History and Archaeology • Arthur E. P. B. Weigall
... very curious sensitive-leaved plant (Schrankia), densely beset throughout with curved prickles, and bearing globes of tiny pink-purple flowers; a calopogon, quite as pretty as our Northern pulchellus; a clematis (Baldwinii), which looked more like a bluebell than a clematis till I commenced pulling it to pieces; and a great profusion of one of the smaller papaws, or custard-apples, a low shrub, just then full of large, odd-shaped, creamy-white, heavy-scented blossoms. I was carrying a sprig of it ...
— A Florida Sketch-Book • Bradford Torrey
... little farther and saw some bluebells growing, and the bluebell flowers were tinkling a pretty little ...
— Uncle Wiggily in the Woods • Howard R. Garis
... ye sons of Sorrow come Only wishing to be numb: Our eyes are sad as bluebell posies, Our breasts are soft as silken roses, And our hands are tenderer Than the breaths that scarce can stir The sunlit eglantine that is Murmurous with hidden bees. Come, ye sorrowful, and steep Your tired brows in a ...
— Georgian Poetry 1916-17 - Edited by Sir Edward Howard Marsh • Various
... an elegance about her and an air of languor, maybe from her sombre dark eyes, yet her every movement was graceful, and her smile a thing to be looking for, and she was slender as the stalk of a bluebell. The Laird of Scaurdale was in great humour, well on to seventy, his teeth still strong and white, and his shoulders with but ...
— The McBrides - A Romance of Arran • John Sillars |
