Annabeth laced her fingers through his. In the light of his bronze sword, her face was beautiful. 'We're together,' she reminded him. 'We'll get through this.
. . . even the most horribl e of nightmares is laced with the promise of dawn.
I was a heavy heart to carry My beloved was weighed down My arms around his neck My fingers laced to crown. I was a heavy heart to carry My feet dragged across ground And he took me to the river Where he slowly let me drown My love has concrete feet My love's an iron ball Wrapped around your ankles Over the waterfall
Write about just one thing, I have said, and there is wisdom in this advice. . . And yet, there is wisdom also in William Sloanes contrary observation: Almost all effective writing above the level of the soup can turns out to be about quite a lot of things fused or laced or linked together.
Our relationship with nature has changed radically, irreversibly, but by no means all for the bad. Our new epoch is laced with invention. Our mistakes are legion, but our talent is immeasurable.
Every new generation of SF writers remakes cyberpunk - a genre often laced with dystopian subtexts - in its own image.
Well time has a way of throwing it all in your face. The past, she is haunted, the future is laced.
For me. . . it's the only life That I've ever known And love is only one. . . Fine star. . . away Even though the living Is sometimes laced with lies. . . It's alright. . . The feeling remains Even after the glitter fades
The idea of 24-hour news, if you really step back, is pretty insane. Just even saying '24-hour news' almost has satire laced in it.
