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success-happiness unbroken flow
My good now flows to me in a steady, unbroken, ever-increasing stream of success, happiness and abundance. Florence Scovel Shinn
flow good interrupt tragedy
I think it's a tragedy when you have things like this that interrupt the flow of good legislative policy. Lou D'Allesandro
flow guys june middle playing
I think the guys are just getting in the flow of the season. If it were the middle of June and we were playing this way I'd be upset. Dave Huppert
flows foot invisible obedience path river
How will you find good? It is not a thing of choice; it is a river that flows from the foot of the invisible throne, and flows by the path of obedience George Eliot
flower night urban-legends
'American Horror' goes for a very specific kind of Seventies suburban downer ambience - 'Flowers in the Attic' paperbacks, Black Sabbath album covers and late-night flicks like 'Let's Scare Jessica to Death.' It even has 'Go Ask Alice'-era urban legends. Rob Sheffield
flower years nuts
Some persons resemble certain trees, such as the nut, which flowers in February and ripens its fruit in September; or the juniper and the arbutus; which take a whole year or more to perfect their fruit; and others, the cherry, which takes between two an three months. Richard Whately
flower butterfly sky
Without butterflies, the world would soon have few flowers. There is enough room in the sky for all flyers. Trina
flower long stories
Long as there's a sun that sets, Primroses will have their glory; Long as there are violets, They will have a place in story: There's a flower that shall be mine, 'Tis the little Celandine. William Wordsworth
flower dancing fluttering
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. William Wordsworth
flower sleep heart
The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune. William Wordsworth