Phrase by 'Pierre Loti'

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I recall feeling an almost delicious terror when one day I found myself alone in the midst of tall June grasses that grew high as my head. But here the secret working of self consciousness is almost too entangled with the things of the past for me to explain it.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Me , Myself , Day , Alone


I still held fast to my determination to become a minister; it still seemed to me that that was my duty. I had pledged myself, in my prayers I had given my word to God. How could I therefore break my vow?

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Me , Myself , God , Determination


I was at that time like a fledgling swallow living high up in a niche in the eaves, who from time to time peeps out over the top of its nest with its little bright eyes.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Time , Like , Eyes , High


It seems to me that it will be very wearisome to be a man.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Me , Will , Man , Very


My books were always full of ink blots, always stained and covered with smeared sketches and pictures, which one draws idly when his attention wanders from his task.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Always , Attention , Pictures , Task


My emotions lose their force when I endeavor to interpret them, and my words seem very inept.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Words , Emotions , Lose , Force


My sister and my brother, of whom I have not spoken before, were considerably older than I; it seemed almost as if we belonged to different generations.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Than , Different , Brother , Sister


Often, before returning home, I would take a long and roundabout way and pass by the peaceful ramparts from where I had glimpses of other provinces, and a sight of the distant country.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Home , Long , Way , Country


Painting and music were the only things I worked at industriously and faithfully.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  Music , Only , Things , Painting


The moon of a bright silver, which dazzles by its shining, illumines a world which surely is no longer ours; for it resembles in nothing what may be seen in other lands.

Author: Pierre Loti - French Writer
  World , Nothing , Moon , Silver


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