欧宝娱乐

“You must not ever stop being whimsical. And you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life.”
― Mary Oliver, Wild Geese

“To have endured horrors, to have seen the worst of humanity and have your life made unrecognizable by it, to come out of all that honorable and brave鈥� that was magical.”
― Ransom Riggs, Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children

“Look after the senses and the sounds will look after themselves”
― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

“What's life without whimsy?”
― Dr Sheldon Cooper - The Big Bang Theory

“Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet (Wednesday Evening's) extra special nice?
Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming.”
― Carl Sandburg, Rootabaga Stories

“There's no backward and no forward, no day other than this. You fill your cart as you go, and that's that.”
― John Burnham Schwartz, Northwest Corner

“[He] said he didn't think we should be afraid to embrace whimsy. I asked him what he meant by whimsy, and he struggled to define it. He said it's that nagging idea that life could be magical; it could be special if we were only willing to take a few risks.”
― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

“A girl never can predict who might wander into her boudoir during a bubble bath.”
― John Burnham Schwartz, Northwest Corner

“Sun-struck,
stuck in mid tropic strut, it sometimes stands

as if considering how to cool avian plastic,
dive into the mown lagoon of lawn;
how take flight on dayglow flap-
doodle wings, no matter
if it is ball-bald going nowhere fast.”
― Joyce Thomas, Skins: Poems

“One summer afternoon I came home and found all the umbrellas sitting in the kitchen, with straw hats on, telling who they are.
...
The umbrella that peels the potatoes with a pencil and makes a pink ink with the peelings stood up and said, "I am the umbrella that peels the potatoes with a pencil and makes a pink ink with the peelings." ...
The umbrella that runs to the corner to get corners for the handkerchiefs stood up and said, "I am the umbrella that runs to the corner to get corners for the handkerchiefs."

...

"I am the umbrella that holds up the sky. I am the umbrella the rain comes through. I am the umbrella that tells the sky when to begin raining and when to stop raining.
"I am the umbrella that goes to pieces when the wind blows and then puts itself back together again when the wind goes down. I am the first umbrella, the last umbrella, the one and only umbrella all other umbrellas are named after, first, last and always."
When the stranger finished this speech telling who he was and where he came from, all the other umbrellas sat still for a little while, to be respectful.
”
― Carl Sandburg, Rootabaga Stories

“There are many Green Dragons in this world of wayside inns, even as there are many White Harts, Red Lions, Silent Women and other incredible things...”
― William Henry Hudson

“Romance is like maintaining a car. If you do a good job of it, you will always have a dependable quiet ride.”
― T.R. Wallace

“I made a sorry face in response to such strong insistence, but I couldn鈥檛 believe him. Fantasies were exactly that鈥昮antasies. Whimsy. Wishes. Mere castles in the sky without foundation or substance. Dreams didn鈥檛 come true. To believe so would be to believe falsely, to surrender to madness, to give in to an unreliable hope that would crush me once again as it always, always did!”
― Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher

“Did you name your pigeons with names?" asked Wiffle (the Chick).
These three, the sandy and golden brown, all named themselves by where they came from. This is Chickamauga, here is Chattanooga, and this is Chattahoochee. And the other three all got their names from me when I was feeling high and easy. This is Blue Mist, here is Bubbles, and last of all take a look at Wednesday Evening in the Twilight and the Gloaming."
Do you always call her Wednesday Evening in the Twilight and the Gloaming?"
Not when I am making coffee from breakfast. If I am making coffee for breakfast then I just call her Wednesday Evening.”
― Carl Sandburg, Rootabaga Stories

“Show me the telegrams they sent you, one every day for six days while they were walking six hundred miles on their pigeon toes."
..
1. Feet are as good as wings if you have to. Chickamauga. ...
3. In the night sleeping you forget whether you have wings or feet or neither. Chattahoochee. ...
6. Pity me. Far is far. Near is near. and there is no place like home when the yellow roses climb up the ladders and sing in the early summer. Pity me. Wednesday Evening In The Twilight And The Gloaming.
..
Well, Wednesday Evening was the only one I noticed making any mention of the yellow roses in her telegram," Hatrack the Horse explained.
Then the old man and the girl sat on the cracker box saying nothing, only listening to the yellow roses all on fire with early summer climbing up th ecrooked ladders, up and down and crossways, some of them leaning out and curving and nearly falling.”
― Carl Sandburg, Rootabaga Stories

“They are lovely pigeons to look at and their eyes are full of lessons to learn.."
They came back yesterday, they came back home," was the answer. "They came back limping on their feet with their toes turned in so far they nearly turned backward.
Every day the last six days I get a telegram, six telegrams from six pigeons--and at last they come home.”
― Carl Sandburg, Rootabaga Stories

“On n'est pas s茅rieux, quand on a dix-sept ans.”
― Arthur Rimbaud, Roman

“You know, I loved children, I loved drama, I loved music, I loved whimsy, I loved puppetry." - Fred Rogers”
― Maxwell King, The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers

“We must leave the Bible to be what it is, for to reduce it to the stuff of myth and whimsy is take the single and sole hope of a dying humanity and obliterate it. And I would contend that such an action is insanity of the greatest sort.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Who told you adulthood couldn鈥檛 feel like childhood? Long days of forgetting what day it is. Wanting to be wherever your wings or the wind dropped you. Filled with secrets and chances and whimsy.”
― Darnell Lamont Walker

“a paper star that has been unfolded and refolded into a tiny unicorn but the unicorn remembers the time when it was a star and an earlier time when it was part of a book and sometimes the unicorn dreams of the time before it was a book when it was a tree and the time even longer before that when it was a different sort of star”
― Erin Morgenstern, The Starless Sea

“It was hidden behind a heavy floral curtain that I鈥檇 assumed was just another window. I鈥檒l never trust a curtain again.”
― Sarah Hogle, Twice Shy

“like a lissome cat
leaping out of my mind's eye
seductive haiku.”
― bina

“Simply put, Ellie Watson was her own person. And to speculate on why she did what she did when she did it, one might just as well wonder why a monarch butterfly, having flown from Mexico to Nebraska in the month of May, happens to land on one flower instead of another”
― Amor Towles, A Whimsy of the World

“I am very fond of trash; I have read a great deal of it 鈥� I have also written a great deal of it.”
― G.K. Chesterton, The Collected Works of G.K. Chesterton Volume 32: The Illustrated London News, 1920-1922

“He'd had it since at least sixth grade, when he'd tried convincing our teacher I hadn't been the one who'd drawn bright pink flowers all over the wall of the girl's bathroom. He hadn't fooled Mrs. Baker then--- I had drawn that aggressively neon meadow landscape---”
― Jenna Levine, My Roommate Is a Vampire

“Donkey's greatest pleasure on any walk, day or night, was in counting, sorting, and measuring the bits and pieces of roots or closed-up flowers or nuts they collected, or the crows in the trees, but Herself sometimes got carried away by a certain kind of breeze, or by the appearance of a wet-looking mushroom poking up through the leaf litter, pink like a dog's penis, or a songbird flying off to leave an exposed egg glowing pale green in the smudged light of the moon. Or after the first hard freeze, a fragile flower made of ice appearing at the base of a wingstem stalk would bring tears to her eyes.”
― Bonnie Jo Campbell, The Waters

“She had poofy, teased-out brown hair that bounced off her shoulders with every high-flying skip and on her t-shirt was a spiraled sun with little wavy lines jumping off it to match the little wavy distortions in the air that were jumping off her. It was pure, unbridled energy and the sound of it hummed in his ears like when standing dangerously near a power transformer. Or maybe he was witnessing the origin story of the world鈥檚 first real superhero, and if so, she was probably going to draw her powers from the electromagnetic field itself.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“Joshua took another small sip from his wine glass as his gaze and his thoughts drifted away from the flat-screen television mounted above the marbled fireplace to ponder a roomful of sports jackets and pantsuits and in some cases cocktail dresses but only of neutral tones and minimal detailing if for no other reason than to avoid becoming the subject of the next petty scandal that would nevertheless send shockwaves through their haughty and insular world. The way they stood in their intimate clusters. Their drink glasses held in various poses of sophistication. And whenever they did bring glass to mouth in accordance with judiciously preset intervals it was also for show, as he believed was true of their subdued conversations, which, from where he was sitting, appeared to be nothing more than the unintelligible murmurings of barely moving lips. A whole list of observations came to mind. Not one of them flattering in any way. The atmosphere thick with that certain stuffiness and elitist redolence of an ivy league alumni fundraising gala. Of course, he readily admitted to himself that out of everyone in the room he was very likely the most materially bereft and least credentialed and that this stinging truth undoubtedly inflamed his plebeian impulse. But that鈥檚 not what was bugging him.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause

“And then she landed, coming to a momentary rest. Just like that, she was done with the jumping and the skipping and the singing and the shouting and anything else to do with the superpowers that held all that was comprehensible into precarious alignment.”
― Casey Fisher, The Subtle Cause