Top Tweed Quotes

Browse top 34 famous quotes and sayings about Tweed by most favorite authors.

Favorite Tweed Quotes

1. "My depth of purse is not so greatNor yet my bibliophilic greed,That merely buying doth elate:The books I buy I like to read:Still e'en when dawdling in a mead,Beneath a cloudless summer sky,By bank of Thames, or Tyne, or Tweed,The books I read — I like to buy."
Author: A. Edward Newton
2. "New York State is upside down and backwards; high taxes and low performance. The New York State government was at one time a national model. Now, unfortunately, it's a national disgrace. Sometimes, the corruption in Albany could even make Boss Tweed blush."
Author: Andrew Cuomo
3. "I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with amusement as they fell upon my astonished features. He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, his keen face bronzed by the sun and roughened by the wind. In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and he had contrived, with that catlike love of personal cleanliness which was one of his characteristics, that his chin should be as smooth and his linen as perfect as if he were in Baker Street."
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
4. "All this intelligent and careful work revealed a man of great forethought. Yet you could see in Mr. Wicks's eyes--as he stood in the shade of the terminal awning, all that tweed and education waving to us, as one by one each bus pulled out for the noisy drive into the city--that he had failed."
Author: Bill Buford
5. "If the world is to go beyond a curiosity well-guarded by cynicism in either academic tweeds or vulgar rap, YOUR POWER MUST BE EVIDENT IN MEETING MATERIAL NEEDS. And it can't just happen once. The world has seen us fail to make the difference here as a habit and an institution, so it needs to see us be that faithful conduit on the same scale."
Author: Brian Eshleman
6. "I remember my father checking on a mountain kid who hadn't been coming to school. My father had this beautiful Harris tweed overcoat. He came back with a knife cut all down one side. The parents had told him it was none of his business why their son wasn't going to school."
Author: Charles Frazier
7. "It was at a conference in Cyprus in 1976, where the theme was the rights of small nations, that I first met Edward Said. It was impossible not to be captivated by him: of his many immediately seductive qualities I will start by mentioning a very important one. When he laughed, it was as if he was surrendering unconditionally to some guilty pleasure. At first the very picture of professorial rectitude, with faultless tweeds, cravats, and other accoutrements (the pipe also being to the fore), he would react to a risqué remark, or a disclosure of something vaguely scandalous, as if a whole Trojan horse of mirth had been smuggled into his interior and suddenly disgorged its contents. The build-up, in other words, was worth one's effort."
Author: Christopher Hitchens
8. "He belonged to a walled city of the fifteenth century, a city of narrow, cobbled streets, and thin spires, where the inhabitants wore pointed shoes and worsted hose. His face was arresting, sensitive, medieval in some strange inexplicable way, and I was reminded of a portrait seen in a gallery I had forgotten where, of a certain Gentleman Unknown. Could one but rob him of his English tweeds, and put him in black, with lace at his throat and wrists, he would stare down at us in our new world from a long distant past—a past where men walked cloaked at night, and stood in the shadow of old doorways, a past of narrow stairways and dim dungeons, a past of whispers in the dark, of shimmering rapier blades, of silent, exquisite courtesy."
Author: Daphne Du Maurier
9. "Seen on her own, the woman was not so remarkable. Tall, angular, aquiline features, with the close-cropped hair which was fashionably called an Eton crop, he seemed to remember, in his mother's day, and about her person the stamp of that particular generation. She would be in her middle sixties, he supposed, the masculine shirt with collar and tie, sports jacket, grey tweed skirt coming to mid-calf. Grey stockings and laced black shoes. He had seen the type on golf courses and at dog shows - invariably showing not sporting breeds but pugs - and if you came across them at a party in somebody's house they were quicker on the draw with a cigarette lighter than he was himself, a mere male, with pocket matches. The general belief that they kept house with a more feminine, fluffy companion was not always true. Frequently they boasted, and adored, a golfing husband. ("Don't Look Now")"
Author: Daphne Du Maurier
10. "I accepted all this counsel politely, with a glassy smile and a glaring sense of unreality. Many adults seemed to interpret this numbness as a positive sign; I remember particularly Mr. Beeman (an overly clipped Brit in a dumb tweed motoring cap, whom despite his solicitude I had come to hate, irrationally, as an agent of my mother's death) complimenting me on my maturity and informing me that I seemed to be "coping awfully well." And maybe I was coping awfully well, I don't know. Certainly I wasn't howling aloud or punching my fist through windows or doing any of the things I imagined people might do who felt as I did. But sometimes, unexpectedly, grief pounded over me in waves that left me gasping; and when the waves washed back, I found myself looking out over a brackish wreck which was illumined in a light so lucid, so heartsick and empty, that I could hardly remember that the world had ever been anything but dead."
Author: Donna Tartt
11. "To-day I thinkOnly with scents, - scents dead leaves yield,And bracken, and wild carrot's seed,And the square mustard field;Odours that riseWhen the spade wounds the root of tree,Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,Rhubarb or celery;The smoke's smell, too,Flowing from where a bonfire burnsThe dead, the waste, the dangerous,And all to sweetness turns.It is enoughTo smell, to crumble the dark earth,While the robin sings over againSad songs of Autumn mirth."- A poem called DIGGING."
Author: Edward Thomas
12. "Brett was damned good-looking. She wore a slip-over jersey sweater and a tweed skirt, and her hair was brushed back like a boy's. She started all that. She was built with curves like the hull of a racing yacht, and you missed none of it with that wool jersey."
Author: Ernest Hemingway
13. "I still remember our first meeting, when Albers brought him to my house. On the little carriage which carried him from the station, and which was hardly built with such loads in mind, sat a massive figure who appeared even more enormous by virtue of the thick overcoat he wore. Everything about him had the effect of extraordinary permanence and solidity: the deep bass voice; the tweed jacket, already, at that time, almost habitual; the appetite at dinner; and at night, the truly Cyclopean snoring, loud as a series of buzz saws, which frightened the other guests at my Chiemgau country house out of their peaceful slumbers."
Author: Friedrich Reck Malleczewen
14. "I am fat with love! Husky with ardor! Morbidly obese with devotion! A happy, busy bumblebee of marital enthusiasm. I positively hum around him, fussing and fixing. I have become a strange thing. I have become a wife. I find myself steering the ship of conversations- bulkily, unnaturally- just so i can say his name aloud. I have become a wife, i have become a bore, I have been asked to forfeit my Independent Young Feminist card. I don't care. I balance his checkbook, I trim his hair. I've gotten so retro, at one point i will probably use the word pocketbook, shuffling out the door in my swingy tweed coat, my lips red, on the way to the beauty parlour. Nothing bothers me. Everything seems liek it will turn out fine, every bother transformed into an amusing story to be told over dinner. 'So I killed a hobo today, honey...hahahaha! Ah, we have fun!"
Author: Gillian Flynn
15. "Do not think of him with Blay. Do not think of him with Blay. Do not think of him— "I didn't know you were a sherry man." "Huh?" Qhuinn glanced down at what he'd poured himself. Fuck. In the midst of the self-lecture, he'd picked up the wrong bottle. "Oh, you know… I'm good with it." To prove the point, he tossed back the hooch—and nearly choked as the sweetness hit his throat. He served himself another only so he didn't look like the kind of idiot who wouldn't know what he was dishing out into his own glass. Okay, gag. The second was worse than the first. From out of the corner of his eye, he watched Saxton settle in at the table, the brass lamp in front of him casting the most perfect glow over his face. Shiiiiiit, he looked like something out of a Ralph Lauren ad, with his buff-colored tweed jacket and his pointed pocket square and that button-down/sweater vest combo keeping his fucking liver cozy. Meanwhile, Qhuinn was sporting hospital scrubs, bare feet. And sherry."
Author: J.R. Ward
16. "He was now wearing a frilly white shirt with ruffles, and a long floppy black bow-tie. He'd swapped his tweed jacket for a velvet one. Over the top he wore a black cape with red satin lining and arm-hole slits."
Author: Jacqueline Rayner
17. "Truly competent Literary Detectives are as rare as truthful men, Mr. Tweed -- you can see her potential as clearly as I can. Frightened of someone stealing your thunder, perhaps?"
Author: Jasper Fforde
18. "I've got six months to sort out the hackers, get the Japanese knotweed under control and find an acceptable form of narcissus."
Author: Jasper Fforde
19. "They had to pretend because our high-ranking politician knew not a word of English (well, when he said goodbye he did risk a "Good luck") and the high-ranking British politician knew not a word of Spanish (although she did say "Buen d?a" to me as she gave me an iron handshake). So while the former was mumbling gibberish in Spanish, inaudible to cameras and photographers, all the time keeping a broad smile trained on his guest, as if he were regaling her with interesting banter (what he said was not, however, inaudible to me: I seem to remember that he kept repeating "One, two, three, four, five, what a lovely time we're going to have"). The latter was muttering nonsense in her own language, and smiling even more broadly than him ("Cheese," she kept saying, which is what all English people being photographed are told to say, and then various untranslatable onomatopoeic words such as "Tweedle tweedle, biddle diddle, twit and fiddle, tweedle twang")."
Author: Javier Marías
20. "Cat, hmmm? From where I sit you look more like a Kitten."My head jerked around and I shot him an annoyed look. Oh, I was going to enjoy this, all right. "It's Cat," I repeated firmly. "Cat Raven.""Whatever you say, Kitten Tweedy."
Author: Jeaniene Frost
21. "It seems that every generation needs its public, tweedy, literary personality to sell its consumer electronics. To whatever degree I can live up to the Plimptonian legacy, I am humble and proud."
Author: John Hodgman
22. "Dr. Kellet himself wore a three-piece Harris tweed suit strung with a large gold fob watch. He smelled of cloves and pipe tobacco and had a twinkly look about him as if he were going to toast muffins or read a particularly good story to her, but instead he beamed at Ursula and said, "So, I hear you tried to kill your maid?" (Oh, that's why I'm here, Ursula thought.)"
Author: Kate Atkinson
23. "Well, the only reason we're friends is because you can rock a tweed suit," she informed, tone mock serious. "So if you want to keep me around, I expect more tweed."
Author: Laura Kreitzer
24. "I'm very brave generally,' he went on in a low voice: 'only today I happen to have a headache.' (Tweedledum)"
Author: Lewis Carroll
25. "You know," he (Tweedledee) added very gravely, "it's one of the most serious things that can possibly happen to one in a battle--to get one's head cut off." pg. 199"
Author: Lewis Carroll
26. "He's dreaming now,' said Tweedledee: 'and what do you think he's dreaming about?'Alice said 'Nobody can guess that.''Why, about YOU!' Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. 'And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?''Where I am now, of course,' said Alice.'Not you!' Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. 'You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!''If that there King was to wake,' added Tweedledum, 'you'd go out—bang!—just like a candle!"
Author: Lewis Carroll
27. "Why, about you!" Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. "And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?""Where I am now, of course," said Alice."Not you!" Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. "You'd be nowhere. Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!""If that there King was to wake," added Tweedledum, "you'd go out--bang!--just like a candle!""I shouldn't!" Alice exclaimed indignantly."
Author: Lewis Carroll
28. "Tweedle dee and tweedle dum"
Author: Mark Twain
29. "The kids today have these fresh faces. It's like they're on pins and needles, waiting to see what I'm going to do. They've never seen me. In the 1960s, those were hippies. They were wired up already. The kids today know me because I've worked with Jeff Tweedy and other young producers."
Author: Mavis Staples
30. "...Il porte une veste en tweed, Parker. Ce sont les papys qui portent du tweed. Les vieux croûtons dans les films anglais rétro. Pourquoi je trouve ça sexy sur lui ?"
Author: Nora Roberts
31. "Confession is good for the soul only in the sense that a tweed coat is good for dandruff - it is a palliative rather than a remedy."
Author: Peter De Vries
32. "The suit caught light and stirred like a bed of black tweed-thorns, interminably itching, covering the man's long body with motion so it seemed he should excruciate, cry out, and tear the clothes free."
Author: Ray Bradbury
33. "Don't hurt him. (Geary)Do you think I came all the way over here to hurt him? If I'd wanted him hurt, I'd have left him to Tweedle Dumb and Dumber. (ZT)"
Author: Sherrilyn Kenyon
34. "Het is allemaal waar wat de filosofie zegt: het leven moet achterwaarts worden begrepen. Maar dan vergeet men de tweede zin: dat het voorwaarts moet worden geleefd."
Author: Søren Kierkegaard

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La soledad es el estado propio del genio y del elegido."
Author: Charles Baudelaire

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