United States or South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
You said work was divine." "You can work in a higher sphere." "And this is the Socialist! I really thought you'd want me to turn factory lass." "You are laughing at me." "I am perfectly serious. I won't drag you down from Socialism, and a head-shawl wouldn't become me." "Why, you'd look sweet in it. Dear, dear, Miss O'Keeffe " "Good-by." "No, you shan't go." He barred her way.
Maper could really have been so mean as to omit her share in the quarrel, but he went on eagerly: "Quite so, quite so. And what do you think it has been for me?" She murmured inarticulate sympathy. "Ah, if you only knew! Oh, my dear Miss O'Keeffe, while you've been in the house, it's been like heaven." "I'm glad I've given satisfaction," she said drily. "Then what do you give by going?
Georgia O'Keeffe has had her feet scorched in the laval effusiveness of terrible experience; she has walked on fire and listened to the hissing of vapors round her person. The pictures of O'Keeffe, the name by which she is mostly known, are probably as living and shameless private documents as exist, in painting certainly, and probably in any other art.
I can respect that invention of the grey spouse of Satan. Hell is Roman, like the walls of the Romans, strong and ugly. But what is limbo? Put him back into the perambulator, Cranly, O'Keeffe called out. Cranly made a swift step towards Temple, halted, stamping his foot, crying as if to a fowl: Hoosh! Temple moved away nimbly. Do you know what limbo is? he cried.
From Baldhead, king of Flanders, Cranly repeated, rooting again deliberately at his gleaming uncovered teeth. Where did you pick up all that history? O'Keeffe asked. I know all the history of your family, too, Temple said, turning to Stephen. Do you know what Giraldus Cambrensis says about your family? Is he descended from Baldwin too? asked a tall consumptive student with dark eyes.
"No, no, you are not to be going away," cried Mrs. O'Keeffe, in alarm. "Why wouldn't I?" asked Eileen. Mrs. O'Keeffe could not tell, but looked mysterious meanings. This excited Eileen, so that the poor woman had no rest till she answered plainly, "Because, mavourneen, it's married you are going to be, please the saints." "Married! Me!" "It was your father's dying wish, God keep his soul."
"Oh, Eil Miss O'Keeffe let me keep it." "Please! we settled that." "It will never be settled till you are my wife." "Listen!" said Eileen, dramatically. "In a few minutes your mother and father will be seated at dinner. Your mother will have told your father I've left the house in disgrace. Don't interrupt.
Her sedate life had grown as dear as her noisy life, she loved the transition to the innocent home circle. Yet in this very domesticity lay a danger. It provoked her to an ever broader humour on the stage. She let herself go, like a swimmer emboldened by a boat behind. Eileen O'Keeffe she felt would rescue Nelly O'Neill if licence carried her too near the falls.
Joe visited the bathroom and noticed that she had left open the door to her bedroom. The bed was freshly made with lilac purple sheets. A huge white flower by Georgia O'Keeffe waited on the wall. He thought it would be nice to listen to music, but he didn't say anything. He was tuning into Mo's way of inhabiting her space, her large eyes, quiet, cat-like.
I don't know the ways of the stage so I send you this as a sure way of reaching you to ask when and where I may have the pleasure of calling upon your friend, Miss O'Keeffe, and renewing the study of Plato. Robert Maper, Hotel Belgravia." "Any answer, miss?" said the imperturbable doorkeeper. The answer flashed irresistibly into her mind as he spoke. Oh, she would play up to Bob Maper.
Word Of The Day