Stomacher Quotes & Sayings

Carbon made only wants to be unmade. — Tori Amos

A SWEET disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness :
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction :
An erring lace which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher :
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly :
A winning wave (deserving note)
In the tempestuous petticoat :
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility :
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part. — Robert Herrick

You can always spot the real thing, that affection; why does it always come from the wrong person? — Jess Walter

It would undoubtedly be prudent for neither of us to attempt a sexual coup on one another again from the evidence of our reactions. Most definitely any outcome of an intended purpose would bound to be foiled from lack of focus. — Scarlett Dawn

If a book did nothing else for you, other than to save you from the company of other people; if all it did was to deliver you from their gossip, and their dull affairs, and their appalling manners, and their rotten Arabic, and their stupid ideas, and their woefully misguided opinions, and above all, from the need to be polite to them; if a book did nothing more than that, it would still be the best friend you ever had. — Andrew Killeen

The night I filled an inside straight: Even a blind hog's gonna root up an acorn once in a while. — Edward Abbey

It's because the idea of what's cool is different. When you talk to a girl who goes to regular school, what's cool is whether or not you've been to jail, or if you have a car. If you talk to a girl who goes to art school, what's cool to her is if you do art projects on the weekend with your dad, if you can build something - out-of-the-norm stuff. — Anthony Mackie

I think Romney's talking himself out of the election, to be honest. I was wondering what was gonna happen when the Republican power structure turned the money on, and then they turned on the money and nothing happened. — Lupe Fiasco

Unspeakable nightmares surround the men now. They would scream if they could. It's no use. The dream has them, and it will not relinquish its hold. Ever. Back in their beds on Mott Street. the men's bodies go limp. But behind their closed lids, their eyes move frantically as, one by one, they are pulled deeper and deeper into a nightmare from which they will never, ever wake. — Libba Bray