A bracelet of bright hair about the bone.
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The Relic, stanza 1.John Donne
I once had on a Lance Armstrong bracelet and a What Would Jesus Do bracelet and I rubbed a blind kid's eyes and he could see. But he wasn't used to the light, it was bright, walked into traffic, was killed instantly. Okay, those of you that are laughing, I'm going to call you half-full, because you're remembering the most important part: The bracelets are working!
Daniel Tosh
When I was your age, my grandfather bought me a ruby bracelet. It was too big for me and would slide up and down my arm. It was almost a necklace. He later told me that he had asked the jeweler to make it that way. Its size was supposed to be a symbol of his love. More rubies, more love. But I could not wear it comfortably. I could not wear it at all. So here is the point of everything I have been trying to say. If I were to give a bracelet to you, now, I would measure your wrist twice.
Jonathan Safran Foer
Kiss and cling to them, kiss and leave them,
Bright and beguiling:—
Bright and beguiling, as She who glances
Along the shore and the meadows along,
And sings for heart's delight, and dances
Crowned with apples, and ruddy, and strong:—
Can we see thee, and not remember
Thy sun-brown cheek and hair sun-golden,
O sweet September?Francis Turner Palgrave
It is not the healthy, the confident, the proud, the joyous, the happy, that one must love - they have no need of one's love! Arrogant and indifferent, they accept love only as homage that is theirs to command, as their due. The devotion of another is to them a mere embellishment, an ornament for the hair, a bracelet on the arm, not the whole meaning and bliss of their lives. Only those with whom life has dealt hardly, the wretched, the slighted, the uncertain, the unlovely, the humiliated, could really be helped by love. He who devotes his life to them atones to them for what life has taken from them. They alone know how to love and be loved as one should love - gratefully and humbly.
Stefan Zweig
I am a sportsman all over, and to the back-bone – 'Unting is all that's worth living for – all time is lost wot is not spent in 'unting – it is like the hair we breathe – if we have it not we die – it's the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt, and only five-and-twenty per cent of its danger.
Robert Smith Surtees
Donne, John
Donovan
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