The claim made by Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán that the refugee question is a German problem is incorrect. It is a European problem.
Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.
We find, therefore, under this orderly arrangement, a wonderful symmetry in the universe, and a definite relation of harmony in the motion and magnitude of the orbs, of a kind that is not possible to obtain in any other way.
That mighty orb of song, The divine Milton.
Your breasts are alabaster orbs. ' "What?" Rufus objected. "That's stupid. I'm not saying that. " "Do you have some better suggestion?" "Why can't you just say she's got a fair set of titties?
Whence arises all that order and beauty we see in the world?
Every man is an infinitely repelling orb, and holds his individual being on that condition.
The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity's horizon evermore.
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings.
It soared, a bird, it held its flight, a swift pure cry, soar silver orb it leaped serene, speeding, sustained, to come, don't spin it out too long long breath he breath long life, soaring high, high resplendent, aflame, crowned, high in the effulgence symbolistic, high, of the ethereal bosom, high, of the high vast irradiation everywhere all soaring all around about the all, the endlessnessnessness.
I believe if I should die, And you should kiss my eyelids where I lie Cold, dead, and dumb to all the world contains, The folded orbs would open at thy breath, And from its exile in the Isles of Death Life would come gladly back along my veins.
A ruby-encrusted orb popped its top and helicopter blades unfolded. Leo was glad Buford the table wasn't here-he would've fallen in love.
