Devilla Villa Quotes

A poem
is
language
built

to the
struc-
ture of a
flower. ~ Jose Garcia Villa

"I should be home by midnight."
"Dad, I need a car."
"Uh-huh. And I need a villa in the south of France. Go figure. Lights out at eleven," he added as he
turned away.
"I've got to have wheels, ~ Nora Roberts

The village is the place to which the roads tend, a sort of expansion of the highway, as a lake of a river ... The word is from the Latin villa, which together with via, a way, or more anciently ved and vella, Varro derives from veho, to carry, because the villa is the place to and from which things are carried ... Hence, too, the Latin word vilis and our vile, also villain. This suggests what kind of degeneracy villagers are liable to. They are wayworn by the travel that goes by and over them, without traveling themselves. ~ Henry David Thoreau

The wife of Ben-Hur, sat in her room in the beautiful villa by Misenum. It was noon, with a warm Italian sun making summer for the roses and vines outside. Everything in the apartment was Roman, ~ Lew Wallace

Car-essential is a real turn-off to me, so yeah, I just want a friendly holiday resort with a villa and a pool, but which is really private, but there again, there's a supermarket and a doctor's and a beach a five-minute walk away. That's all I want, and it's quite difficult to find. ~ Robert Webb

You will think that they ought to have been very happy. And so they were, but they did not know HOW happy till the pretty life in the Red Villa was over and done with, and they had to live a very different life indeed. The ~ E. Nesbit

If he was not personally loud, however, he was deep, and during these closing days of the Roman May he knew a complacency that matched with slow irregular walks under the pines of the Villa Borghese, among the small sweet meadow-flowers and the mossy marbles. ~ Henry James

Aston Villa have literally metaphorically had their pants pulled down ~ Dion Dublin

Michael looked around the beautiful garden with its many colored flowers, fragrant lemon trees, the old statures of the gods dug from ancient ruins, other newer ones of holy saints, the rose-colored walls across the villa. It was a lovely setting for the examination of twelve murderous apostles. ~ Mario Puzo

I was very young and lived with my grandparents in a villa with white walls in the Calle Ocharan, in Miraflores. ~ Mario Vargas-Llosa

As Carmen of the Guardia Civil remarked, the Guardia themselves provide enough crime to obviate the need for involving citizens. ~ S.H. Villa

Why is it that whenever I hear a piece of music I don't like, it's always by Villa-Lobos? ~ Igor Stravinsky

Villa will probably play a lot worse than this and lose. ~ Alan Parry

I kept this to remind me of you trying to brush away the Villa Rossa from your teeth in the morning, swearing and eating aspirin and cursing harlots. Every time I see that glass I think of you trying to clean your conscience with a toothbrush. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

Those long uneven lines
Standing as patiently
As if they were stretched outside
The Oval or Villa Park,
The crowns of hats, the sun
On moustached archaic faces
Grinning as if it were all
An August Bank Holiday lark;

And the shut shops, the bleached
Established names on the sunblinds,
The farthings and sovereigns,
And dark-clothed children at play
Called after kings and queens,
The tin advertisements
For cocoa and twist, and the pubs
Wide open all day--

And the countryside not caring:
The place names all hazed over
With flowering grasses, and fields
Shadowing Domesday lines
Under wheat's restless silence;
The differently-dressed servants
With tiny rooms in huge houses,
The dust behind limousines;

Never such innocence,
Never before or since,
As changed itself to past
Without a word--the men
Leaving the gardens tidy,
The thousands of marriages,
Lasting a little while longer:
Never such innocence again.

- MCMXIV ~ Philip Larkin

in blue wihout when blues dream bears
the only living girls are gold
quickly the living boys will bring them stars
and stars will sing them bells

in bells without when bells dream blooms
the only living boys are brave
quickly the living girls will bring them dooms
and dooms will praise their love ~ Jose Garcia Villa

The lovers of beauty must unite in a league, and carry out some great propagandist work through the country. They must demand the extermination of the bulldog and the dismantling of the cheap villa, both of which are responsible for a deal of our contentment amid ugliness. ~ Robert Wilson Lynd

In the silence, Kestrel heard a falling leaf scratch the glass of the window, opened out toward the dimming sky. It was warm, but summer was almost over.
"Play your tiles," Arin said roughly.
Kestrel turned them over, taking no joy in the fact that she had surely won. She had four scorpions.
Arin flipped his. The sound of ivory clacking against the wooden table was unnaturally loud.
Four vipers.
"I win," he said, and swept the matches into his hand.
Kestrel stared at the tiles, feeling a numbness creep along her limbs. "Well," she said. She cleared her throat. "Well played."
He gave her a humorless smile. "I did warn you."
"Yes. You did."
He stood. "I think I'll take my leave while I have the advantage."
"Until next time." Kestrel realized she had offered him her hand. He looked at it, then took it in his own. She felt the numbness ebb, only to be replaced by a different kind of surprise.
He dropped her hand. "I have things to do."
"Like what?" She tried for a lighthearted tone.
He answered in kind. "Like contemplate what I am going to do with my sudden windfall of matches." He widened his eyes in pretend glee, and Kestrel smiled.
"I'll walk you out," she said.
"Do you think I will lose my way? Or steal something as I go?"
She felt her expression turn haughty. "I am leaving the villa anyway," she said, though she had had no such plans until the words left her mouth.
They walked in silence thr ~ Marie Rutkoski

And so Cristina submerged her ears beneath the water and the world grew a little quieter; her hair fanned out atop the plane and she ran her fingers through it and was reminded of a goddess in a Renaissance painting. Her mind wandered far from the villa and the ruins and her unshakable sense that her world was about to change. ~ Chris Bohjalian

Arin," she said, searching his face. "Was it my house? I mean, the villa. Did you live there, before the war?"
He yanked on the reins. His stallion ground to a halt.
When he spoke, Arin's voice was like the music he had asked her to play. "No," he said. "That family is gone."
They rode on in silence until Arin said, "Kestrel."
She waited, then realized that he wasn't speaking to her, exactly. He was simply saying her name, considering it, exploring the syllables of the Valorian word.
She said, "I hope you're not going to pretend you don't know what it means."
He shot her a wry, sidelong look. "A kestrel is a hunting hawk."
"Yes. The perfect name for a warrior girl."
"Well." His smile was slight, but it was there. "I suppose neither of us is the person we were believed we would become. ~ Marie Rutkoski

A man has perished; his corpse is dust,
and his people have passed from the land;
it is a book which makes him remembered
in the mouth of a speaker.
More excellent is a [papyrus] roll than a built house,
than a chapel in the west.
It is better than an established villa,
than a stela in a temple... ~ Anonymous

My favorite hotel is the Villa Alilla in Bali. The setting is pure bliss, overlooking the ocean of Uluwhatu; the eye line makes you feel as if you're floating on top of the ocean. ~ Carolyn Murphy

We have to invest in developing Villa Park, allowing us to generate our own revenue streams. At the same time, of course, there's a balance between growing long-term and getting the instant results we all crave as fans. ~ Randy Lerner

I love soccer, love tennis ... Roger Federer has been a favourite for a long, long time. The kind of consistency he has shown, 16 Grand Slam titles ... The way he handles himself in pressure situations is admirable ... He is so calm ... In soccer, I'm a huge fan of Barcelona ... I like watching Cristiano Ronaldo, Lionel Messi and David Villa. ~ Virat Kohli

Meantime, let me ask myself one question--Which is better?--To have surrendered to temptation; listened to passion; made no painful effort--no struggle;--but to have sunk down in the silken snare; fallen asleep on the flowers covering it; wakened in a southern clime, amongst the luxuries of a pleasure villa: to have been now living in France, Mr. Rochester's mistress; delirious with his love half my time--for he would--oh, yes, he would have loved me well for a while. He DID love me--no one will ever love me so again. I shall never more know the sweet homage given to beauty, youth, and grace--for never to any one else shall I seem to possess these charms. He was fond and proud of me--it is what no man besides will ever be.--But where am I wandering, and what am I saying, and above all, feeling? Whether is it better, I ask, to be a slave in a fool's paradise at Marseilles--fevered with delusive bliss one hour- -suffocating with the bitterest tears of remorse and shame the next- -or to be a village-schoolmistress, free and honest, in a breezy mountain nook in the healthy heart of England? ~ Charlotte Bronte

I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. And I thought if I was going to die I would die with you.
Someone like you, young as I am, I saw so many dying near me in the last year. I didn't feel scared. I
certainly wasn't brave just now. I thought to myself, We have this villa this grass, we should have lain
down together, you in my arms, before we died. I wanted to touch that bone at your neck, collarbone,
it's like a small hard wing under your skin. I wanted to place my fingers against it. I've always liked flesh
the colour of rivers and rocks or like the brown eye of a Susan, do you know what that flower is? Have
you seen them? I am so tired, Kip, I want to sleep. I want to sleep under this tree, put my eye against
your collarbone I just want to close my eyes without thinking of others, want to find the crook of a tree
and climb into it and sleep. What a careful mind! To know which wire to cut. How did you know? You
kept saying I don't know I don't know, but you did. Right? Don't shake, you have to be a still bed for
me, let me curl up as if you were a good grandfather I could hug, I love the word 'curl,' such a slow
word, you can't rush it... ~ Michael Ondaatje

I was going away, leaving behind me the villa, the garden and that summer. ~ Francoise Sagan

I'm not interested in making money, or being wealthy enough to have a villa in Beverly Hills, because in Paris I don't need that much money. ~ Ludivine Sagnier

In his Greenwich Village apartment, Jose
Garcia Villa fords his fiords of books and papers
on his way to the bar of the anchored angel.
In a boxcar to Bakersfield
stars beam on Carlos Bulosan
papaya blossoms of Mangusmana. ~ Ricardo M. De Ungria

Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something. ~ Pancho Villa

Finally, then, I conclude with an iconic image of that foundational reconciliation from the later fourth century. It is a bronze hanging lamp from the villa of the aristocratic Valerii on the Celian Hill in Rome, now preserved in the National Archaeological Museum in Florence. The lamp is shaped like a boat. Peter is seated in the stern at the tiller. Paul is standing in the prow looking forward. Peter steers. Paul guides. And the boat sails full before the wind. ~ Marcus J. Borg

An old villa surrounded by a garden looked to them like the image of a comforting home, the dream of an idyll long past. ~ Milan Kundera

The,purpose,of,a,match?"
"To,start,a,fire,with."
No.
"To,store,up,fire,
And,to,keep,it,cool. ~ Jose Garcia Villa

One of the odder services the Villa Candessa provided for its long-term guests was its "likeness cakes" - little frosted simulacra fashioned after the guests by the inn's Camorr-trained pastry sculptor. On a silver tray beside the looking glass, a little sweetbread Locke (with raisin eyes and almond-butter blond hair) sat beside a rounder Jean with dark chocolate hair and beard. The baked Jean's legs were already missing. A few moments later, Jean was brushing the last buttery crumbs from the front of his coat. "Alas, poor Locke and Jean." "They died of consumption," said Locke. ~ Scott Lynch

In U.S. sports, you tend to be pretty strictly limited by the size of your team's market. When we heard that Villa was a club here that might be available, I had a strong feeling that a team in the West Midlands could be the chance to create something very special. ~ Randy Lerner

was too good to turn down, and so she and Berthe left for the States together. They'd suggested that Carol and Imogen might like to come too, but it would have been almost impossible for Carol to get a work visa, and besides, she was uneasy about raising her daughter in New York. It was Madame Fournier who found her the housekeeper's job in the Delissandes' holiday home in Hendaye, seven hundred kilometres away. There had been tears at their departure, but Imogen didn't remember them. She didn't remember the flight to Biarritz. No matter how hard she tried, her first clear memory was of the gates of the Villa Martine opening and of Denis Delissandes yelling at his sons. The sudden sound of a mobile ringtone startled her so much that she jumped and instinctively put her hand into her bag, before remembering that her phone was in its component parts and scattered around France. At the same time, a man walking out of a doorway took his own phone from his ~ Sheila O'Flanagan

I was offered a free villa in Hollywood, but I said no thank you, I prefer to live in Italy. ~ Ennio Morricone

But since Christ is not easy
(You must hunt him first among

The white shadows of black birds
With a mask upon your shoulder

And a rose upon your eyes!) - ~ Jose Garcia Villa

ANOTHER TWILIGHT
Allow the point of the Croccodrillo
its hazy cypress trees in profile
Like a rough sketch for the Isle
of the Dead, as seen from yellow
stucco, his Villa Igea where Lawrence
finished "Sons and Lovers," wild thyme
scenting olive-grove grass, crime
scenery come back to more than once.
Again you're mirrored in lake shadow,
a white sail flaking on its turquoise
wavelets, keep awake by traffic noise
Along the Gardesana...and you know
that this beauty's unbearable as before
even if seen from its opposite shore. ~ Peter Robinson

How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit;
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,
Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts to the leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil and villa ~ William Shakespeare

With the advent of Twitter and Facebook and other social networking sites, genuine privacy can only be found by renting a private villa for a holiday. ~ Robert Powell

We will only keep people from fleeing the countryside into urban favelas, villas miseries, shantytowns and squatter villages when the productivity gap is closed between what brute labor on the soil can accomplish and what advanced technology makes possible today - and will make possible tomorrow. ~ Alvin Toffler

Where are there square bubbles? ~ Jose Garcia Villa

The weirdest place I ever actually woke up in was a villa on the beach in Mexico. It was burning hot, and there were all these crabs walking around me. But I was feeling good, so I went with the vibe. ~ Nayvadius Cash

If I did not move and dance between them the three would turn to stone, for they are passive [ ... ] They would fall asleep if I lay still somewhere. Henry, Gonzalo, Hugh. [ ... ] It is only my dancing, my dancing which animates them. I slide out of Gonzalo's bed like a snake. I slide out of Henry's bed. I slide out of Hugh's bed. [ ... ]
I dance untrammeled - return to each full of the space in between, that change of air. Dancing, I find my flame and my joy, because I dance, slide, run, to the boat, to quai de Passy, to Villa Seurat; I keep the wind in the folds of my dress, the rain on my hair, and light in my eyes. ~ Anais Nin

Just when I despaired -- she was there, filling me as a melody fills a cottage. I was with her, running beside the Acis when we were a child. I knew the ancient villa moated by a dark lake, the view through the dusty windows of the belvedere, and the secret space in the odd angle between two rooms where we sat at noon to read by candlelight. I knew the life of the Autarch's court, where poison waited in a diamond cup. I learned what it was for one who had never seen a cell or felt a whip to be a prisoner of the torturers, what dying meant, and death.

I learned that I had been more to her than I had ever guessed, and at last fell into a sleep in which my dreams were all of her. Not memories merely -- memories I had possessed in plenty before. I held her poor, cold hands in mine, and I no longer wore the rags of an apprentice, nor the fuligin of a journeyman. We were one, naked and happy and clean, and we knew that she was no more and that I still lived, and we struggled against neither of those things, but with woven hair read from a single book and talked and sang of other matters. ~ Gene Wolfe

Villa Grande has in many ways symbolized an important, but less than pleasant, part of our history. ~ Kjell Magne Bondevik

If he could have been reembodied, at that moment a black wind would have rushed through the Villa Fioretta, wrenching the shutters off and tearing the pictures down, or an earthquake cracked the floors, or the olivey hill above the villa erupted, showering hot choking ash. ~ Elizabeth Bowen

Thought Experiment: Imagine that you are Johnny Carson and find yourself caught in an intolerable one-on-one conversation at a cocktail party from which there is no escape. Which of the two following events would you prefer to take place: (1) That the other person become more and more witty and charming, the music more beautiful, the scene transformed to a villa at Capri on the loveliest night of the year, while you find yourself more and more at a loss; or (2) that you are still in Beverly Hills and the chandeliers begin to rattle, a 7.5 Richter earthquake takes place, and presently you find yourself and the other person alive and well, and talking under a mound of rubble.
If your choice is (2), explain why it is possible for a true conversation to take place under the conditions of (2) but not (1). ~ Walker Percy