Shatavari Powder Quotes

Present­ly, when the strain re­laxed, Blore said: 'There are habits and habits! Mr. Lom­bard takes a re­volver to out-​of-​the-way places, right enough, and a primus and a sleep­ing-​bag and a sup­ply of bug pow­der, no doubt! But habit wouldn't make him bring the whole out­fit down here? It's on­ly in books peo­ple car­ry re­volvers around as a matter of course.' Dr. Arm­strong shook his head per­plexed­ly. ~ Agatha Christie

Bosnia is known as the powder keg of Yugoslavia, which itself is known as the powder keg of the Balkans, which in turn is reputed to be the powder keg of Europe. I would like to lengthen the list a bit by noting that Slobodan Milosevic was the powder keg of Bosnia. He is also one of the most extraordinary men you could hope to meet in your lifetime, a Halley's Comet of dictators, appearing once or twice a century.

p. 199 ~ Peter Maas

Still,there was this heavy feeling in the air, like everyone was trying too hard to have a good time. Laughs were too loud, and smiles looked forced. Maybe they were afraid Dad and I would vaporize them if they didn't act like this was the best party ever.
I would have laid my forehead against the cool glass wall, but I didn't really want to see my reflection that closely. Lysander had brought the dress earlier that afternoon, and insisted on doing my makeup,too. Consequently, it looked like a glitter bomb had exploded on my face. Even my bare shoulders were dusted with sparkling blue powder. ~ Rachel Hawkins

I must confess that in all the times I read Madame Bovary, I never noticed the heroine's rainbow eyes. Should I have? Would you? Was I perhaps too busy noticing things that Dr Starkie was missing (though what they might have been I can't for the moment think)? Put it another way: is there a perfect reader somewhere, a total reader? Does Dr Starkie's reading of Madame Bovary contain all the responses which I have when I read the book, and then add a whole lot more, so that my reading is in a way pointless? Well, I hope not. My reading might be pointless in terms of the history of literary criticism; but it's not pointless in terms of pleasure. I can't prove that lay readers enjoy books more than professional critics; but I can tell you one advantage we have over them. We can forget. Dr Starkie and her kind are cursed with memory: the books they teach and write about can never fade from their brains. They become family. Perhaps this is why some critics develop a faintly patronising tone towards their subjects. They act as if Flaubert, or Milton, or Wordsworth were some tedious old aunt in a rocking chair, who smelt of stale powder, was only interested in the past, and hadn't said anything new for years. Of course, it's her house, and everybody's living in it rent free; but even so, surely it is, well, you know…time?
Whereas the common but passionate reader is allowed to forget; he can go away, be unfaithful with other writers, come back and be entranced again. Domesticity ~ Julian Barnes

I'd get a shell, they weighed about 80 pounds I think, but when I was 19 or 20 that was nothing. I'd take a shell and a bag of powder, I'd put it in the hoist and then I would send it up to the gun. ~ Barney Ross

The only success worth one's powder was success in the line of one's idiosyncrasy ... what was talent but the art of being completely whatever one happened to be? ~ Henry James

We must powder our wigs; that is why so many poor people have no bread. ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Some logics get nervous breakdowns. Overloaded phone system behaves like frightened child. Mike did not have upsets, acquired sense of humor instead. Low one. If he were a man, you wouldn't dare stoop over. His idea of thigh-slapper would be to dump you out of bed - or put itch powder in pressure suit. ~ Robert A. Heinlein

This is absurd," Colin grumbled. "At this rate, we'll arrive next Tuesday."
"Stop talking. Start moving." Bram nudged a sheep with his boot, wincing as he did. With his leg already killing him, the last thing he needed was a pain in the arse, but that's exactly what he'd inherited, along with all his father's accounts and possessions: responsibility for his wastrel cousin, Colin Sandhurst, Lord Payne.
He swatted at another sheep's flank, earning himself an indignant bleat and a few inches more.
"I have an idea," Colin said.
Bram grunted, unsurprised. As men, he and Colin were little more than strangers. But during the few years they'd overlapped at Eton, he recalled his younger cousin as being just full of ideas. Ideas that had landed him shin-deep in excrement. Literally, on at least one occasion.
Colin looked from Bram to Thorne and back again, eyes keen. "I ask you, gentlemen. Are we, or are we not, in possession of a great quantity of black powder? ~ Tessa Dare

Ingredients 1 lb melt and pour soap base 3 Tbsp cocoa butter 1 Tbsp coconut oil 1/4 cup finely ground coffee Cocoa powder to color the soap 1 Tbsp orange essential oil 1 1/2 cappuccino fragrance oil or coffee fragrance oil Instructions 1. Make ~ Diann Bright

At Last It's a perfect winter day. No wind. No Arctic freeze. Cloudless azure sky. A day to fly. Snow drapes the mountain like ermine, fabulous feather- light powder coaxing me to flee the confines of my room, brave the mostly plowed road up to the closest ski resort. To run from the cloying silence connected Mom and Dad, into encompassing stillness far away from city dirt and noise Far above suburban gridlock. Far beyond the grasp of home. ~ Ellen Hopkins

In the chemistry lab at school, did you ever hold a test tube, pouring in liquids and powders and seeing nothing happen until a certain powder is poured in and then everything begins to smoke and fume, bubble and boil, hiss to foam, and sometimes even explode? The tube is suddenly full of action and movement and life. Well there are people like those certain liquids or powders; at a given moment they come into a room, or into a town, even into a country-and the place is never the same again. Things bubble, boil, change. Sometimes the whole world is changed. ~ Langston Hughes

Coconut oil Deodorant Recipe Here is what you need: -1/4 Cup Baking Soda -1/3 Cup coconut oil -4 tablespoons of cornstarch (adds an antiperspirant effect) -1/4 Cup arrowroot powder - 10 drops of essential oils (optional, but you can use cinnamon or sweet orange) Directions Mix the baking soda, arrowroot powder and cornstarch in a bowl, then add the coconut oil and blend all the dry ingredients together using a fork or pastry cutter. Add the drops of essential oils and then add more coconut oil or baking soda to achieve a desired consistency. Use the natural coconut oil deodorant just as you would use any ~ Gigi Ann Louis

A thing that has always baffled me about women is that they will saturate themselves with a pint of perfume, a pound of sachet powder, an evil-smelling lip rouge, a peculiar-smelling hair ointment and a half-dozen varieties of body oils, and then have the effrontery to complain of the aroma of a fine dollar cigar. ~ Groucho Marx

Are you sure you're okay, Taylor? Say something . . . normal." He gently tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, being careful to avoid the bump on her head.
Taylor stared up into Jason's amazing blue eyes. He really was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.
With great effort, she pulled herself out of the dreamy depths of the Sexiest Eyes Alive and somehow managed a casual smile. She knew she should at least thank him for coming for her.
But then she noticed something she had somehow missed earlier. She peered more closely at Jason. "Wait a second - are you wearing makeup?"
Oh yes, there it was - a little trace of powder dusted across his face. And was that a smudge of eyeliner along his bottom lid . . . ?
This was too precious.
Taylor raised an eyebrow teasingly. "Gee, Jason, it's just a hospital - you really didn't need to get all gussied up."
And with that, Jason smiled. He turned to the doctor, finally satisfied.
"Okay. She's fine. ~ Julie James

With a scowl, he turned from the window, but it was too late. The sight of Lady Celia crossing the courtyard dressed in some rich fabric had already stirred his blood. She never wore such fetching clothes; generally her lithe figure was shrouded in smocks to protect her workaday gowns from powder smudges while she practiced her target shooting.
But this morning, in that lemon-colored gown, with her hair finely arranged and a jeweled bracelet on her delicate wrist, she was summer on a dreary winter day, sunshine in the bleak of night, music in the still silence of a deserted concert hall.
And he was a fool.
"I can see how you might find her maddening," Masters said in a low voice.
Jackson stiffened. "Your wife?" he said, deliberately being obtuse.
"Lady Celia."
Hell and blazes. He'd obviously let his feelings show. He'd spent his childhood learning to keep them hidden so the other children wouldn't see how their epithets wounded him, and he'd refined that talent as an investigator who knew the value of an unemotional demeanor.
He drew on that talent as he faced the barrister. "Anyone would find her maddening. She's reckless and spoiled and liable to give her husband grief at every turn." When she wasn't tempting him to madness.
Masters raised an eyebrow. "Yet you often watch her. Have you any interest there?"
Jackson forced a shrug. "Certainly not. You'll have to find another way to inherit your new bride's fortune."
He'd hope ~ Sabrina Jeffries

That was the end of the dialogue, because, I remember distinctly, he barely had time to say "What about the bread?" That was all. After that there was nothing but flame and noise. The kind of noise you wouldn't have thought possible. Our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were so full of that noise I thought it was all over and I'd turned into noise and flame myself.

After a while the flame went away, the noise stayed in my head, and my arms and legs trembled as if somebody were shaking me from behind. My limbs seemed to be leaving me, but then in the end they stayed on. The smoke stung my eyes for a long time, and the prickly smell of powder and sulphur hung on, strong enough to kill all the fleas and bedbugs in the whole world. ~ Louis Ferdinand Celine

Howling duststorms of nuclear ashes. Human and animal bone powder. Flakes and fragments of the destroyed world. Filthy tempests of death. I am in Hell, he said. ~ C.J. Anderson

Real magic is the hand around the bandsaw, the thrown spark in the powder keg, the dimension-warp linking you straight into the heart of a star, the flaming sword that burns all the way down to the pommel. Sooner juggle torches in a tar pit than mess with real magic. Sooner lie down in front of a thousand elephants. ~ Terry Pratchett

The marquis de Carabas tossed the figurine to Mr. Croup, who caught it eagerly, like an addict catching a plastic baggie filled with white powder of dubious legality. ~ Neil Gaiman

Her tiny hand gripped mine with a surprising warmth, and in a shocking wash of emotion, I felt everything I knew shift. The scent of cinnamon and baby powder hit me, and as my eyes widened, my heart melted, making room for her. ~ Kim Harrison

The door opened to reveal Janie gleefully putting the finishing touches of the bright pink polish on Max's hands.
"Nice timing," the solider said with a grimace.
Talen snorted. "You're relieved, in case you need to powder your cheeks. ~ Rebecca Zanetti

Eustatius in the Caribbean. At present, there was powder ~ David McCullough

Have you considered - between now and any future leg-shackling, that is - the possibility of spending some time not running things?" "Oh, I do," she said earnestly. "Twice daily! I try very hard not to run things in my sleep, nor whilst cleaning my teeth. Far too difficult to bark orders with tooth powder in one's mouth. ~ Erica Ridley

Throw my heart
Against the flint and hardness of my fault:
Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder,
And finish all foul thoughts. ~ William Shakespeare

The powder is mixed with water and tastes exactly like powder mixed with water. ~ Art Buchwald

For a clean makeup finish, I use Cle de Peau translucent pressed powder. ~ Rena Sofer

Maybe he was what Lucian would have turned out to be if the old sheriff hadn't have lived in such interesting times. A couple of years in a Japanese prison camp might be just what Turk needed. But I didn't have a bridge over the river Kwai for him to build so we had to settle for Powder Junction. ~ Craig Johnson

I was quite unable to make any white metal alloy hard enough to be made into powder by my machinery. ~ Henry Bessemer

Breakfast: Cinnamon Banana Pancakes These dairy-free and egg-free pancakes are not only delicious, but they are full of calcium, good fats and potassium that are healing to the body. Serves: 2 Cooking time: 30 minutes Ingredients: 4 overripe bananas, mashed 2 tablespoons coconut oil ½ teaspoon cinnamon powder ½ teaspoon allspice 2 tablespoons maple syrup ~ Amelia Sanders

How close beneath the surface, even in the happiest family, is the chronic grievance! I sometimes think that tinderboxes are inert and powder kegs mere talcum compared to the explosive possibilities in the most commoplace domestic situation. ~ Margaret Halsey

Gilbert took from his desk a little pink candy heart with a gold motto on it, "You are sweet," and slipped it under the curve of Anne's arm. Whereupon Anne arose, took the pink heart gingerly between the tips of her fingers, dropped it on the floor, ground it to powder beneath her heel, and resumed her position without deigning to bestow a glance on Gilbert. ~ L.M. Montgomery

Hannah asked. "Six cans or three quarts of canned tomatoes, two onions the size of a tennis ball, sixteen ounces of jalapeno peppers or one pint if you've canned them yourself, a tablespoon and a half of garlic powder, a teaspoon and a half of both black pepper and salt, and some cilantro chopped fine if you want. Makes a gallon," Sue said. "I found ~ Carolyn Brown

Like an arrow sprung from a bow Betty flashed past the Colonel and out on the green. Scarcely ten of the long hundred yards had been covered by her flying feet when a roar of angry shouts and yells warned Betty that the keen-eyed savages saw the bag of powder and now knew they had been deceived by a girl. ~ Zane Grey

It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, mid October, with the sun not shining and a look of hard wet rain in the clearness of the foothills. I was wearing my powder-blue suit, with dark blue shirt, tie and display handkerchief, black brogues, black wool socks with dark little clocks on them. I was neat, clean, shaved and sober, and I didn't care who knew it. I was everything the well-dressed private detective ought to be. I was calling on four million dollars. ~ Raymond Chandler

Emma told me once that baking powder was an act of love, invented by a chemist for his wife, who was allergic to yeast. ~ Jordan Weisman

I feel time beginning to slow, until the last of him is grey powder on the sea and time stops altogether. ~ Sophie Hardcastle

They dined early, and as soon as the meal was over Margaret went up to change into the frock she had worn on the previous evening. With a praiseworthy attention to detail she made her hair look tousled, and wiped all the powder off her face. As Charles remarked, in a newly engaged girl this deed almost amounted to heroism. ~ Georgette Heyer

It was claimed that the Borgias spread arsenic on the entrails of a slaughtered pig, which were then left to rot. The resulting mess was gently dried to a powder which they called La Cantarella, a pale solid that was added to food or drink. If the arsenic did not claim the victim, the toxins from the rotting entrails would probably finish them off. ~ Kathryn Harkup

Guilt is to danger, what fire is to gunpowder; a man need not fear to walk among many barrels of powder, if he have no fire about him. ~ John Flavel

The announcer, in milky tones, rolled out the commercial; it was all about some sort of washing powder that made laundry days a mere frolic in the backyard ~ Ruth Park

My love is like a powder keg
My love is like a powder keg in the corner of an empty warehouse
Somewhere just outside of town
About to burn down
My love is like a Cuban plane
My love is like a Cuban plane flying from Havana
Up the Florida coast to the 'Glades
Soviet made
Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Our love is like the border between Greece and Albania
Trucks loaded down with weapons
Crossing over every night
Moon yellow and bright
There is a shortage in the blood supply
But there is no shortage of blood
The way I feel about you baby can't explain it
You got the best of my love ~ John Darnielle

Can I make you happier with powder on my chest? Do you need a thousand movie shows? Sixteen million people to ride the bus with, hit the stop - I shoulda never let you go away from home - " Rich lips brooded in my deaf ear. "The fog'll fall all over you, Jacky, you'll wait in fields - You'll let me die - you wont come save me - I wont even know where your grave is - remember what you were like, where your house, what your life - you'll die without knowing what happened to my face - my love - my youth - You'll burn yourself out like a moth jumping in a locomotive boiler looking for light - Jacky - and you'll be dead - and lose yourself from yourself - and forget - and sink - and me too - and what is all this then?"
"I dont know - "
"Then come back to our porch of the river the night time the trees and you love stars - I hear the bus on the corner - where you're getting off - no more, boy, no more - I saw, had visions and idees of you handsome my husband walking across the top of the America with your lantern...
Out of her eyes I saw smoldering I'd like to rip this damn dress off and never see it again! ~ Jack Kerouac

But finally, when they stopped to sleep, not bothering with a tent, just bedding down in a hollow they'd trampled in the tall grass with their boots, Arin spoke. He slid a hand under her tunic to touch her bare back, then stopped. "Is this all right?"
She wanted to explain that she hadn't thought she'd ever bear anyone's touch on her scarred back, that it should revolt him and revolt her. Yet his touch made her feel soft and new. "Yes."
He pushed the shirt up, seeking the lash marks, tracing their length. She let herself feel it, and shivered, and thought of nothing. But a tension grew. He was still, but for his hand.
Kestrel said, "What's wrong?"
"Your life would have been easier if you had married the Valorian prince."
She drew herself up so that she could face him. The scent of black powder clung to them both. His skin smelled like a blown-out candle. "But not better," she said. ~ Marie Rutkoski

The traffic system needs a complete rethink," mused Bryant as the unit's only allocated vehicle, a powder-blue Vauxhall with a thoroughly thrashed engine, accelerated through Belsize Park. "Look at these road signs. Ministerial graffiti."
"It's no use lecturing on the problem, Arthur. That's why your driving examiner failed you thirty-seven times."
"What makes you such a great driver?'
"I don't hit things. ~ Christopher Fowler