"All-devouring" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... its silken walls, and out steps—not the hungry, little, all-devouring aphis lion, but this elegant lady with her pale-green lacelike wings and ...
— The Insect Folk • Margaret Warner Morley
... Sang the archers with their arrows, Sang the spearmen with their weapons, Sang the swordsmen with their poniards, Sang the singers with their singing, The enchanters with their magic, To the rapids of the rivers, To the highest fall of waters, To the all-devouring whirlpool, To the deepest depths of ocean, Where the wizards still are sleeping, Sleeping till the grass shoots upward Through the beards and wrinkled faces, Through the locks of the enchanters, As they sleep beneath the billows." Still entreats the anxious ...
— The Kalevala (complete) • John Martin Crawford, trans.
... chin in her palms, thinking of the meal just eaten. Whilst waiting for it she had imagined a mess of pottage perhaps, or stewed kid as piece de resistance, with honey or manna as sweets, and a savoury of fried locusts, which she, with many others, imagined to be the all-devouring insect. She knew by now, and returned thanks, that the man neither ate with his mouth open nor gave precedence to his fingers and teeth over knives and forks, but in her wildest dreams she had never imagined that such exquisite things, served in ...
— Desert Love • Joan Conquest
... upon the top of the garden a new coating of rushes and another covering of mud. Thus they have been going on for centuries, one garden being placed upon the top of another, and a third placed over all, so soon as the second gives signs of being swallowed up in the all-devouring mud. ...
— Mexico and its Religion • Robert A. Wilson
... through them harmlessly. Gas wafted off them like air. Despite the frantic efforts of scientists and military men, nothing could be devised to stem that all-devouring orange tide. ...
— Spawn of the Comet • Harold Thompson Rich
... tremble, we were obliged to gaze also upon the beauties of the aforesaid nice young man, who was sketching it. As we turned to go away, aunt Celia dropped her bag. It is one of those detestable, all-absorbing, all-devouring, thoroughly respectable, but never proud Boston bags, made of black cloth with leather trimmings, "C. Van T." embroidered on the side, and the top drawn up with stout cords which pass over the Boston wrist or arm. As for me, I loathe them, and would not for worlds be seen ...
— A Cathedral Courtship • Kate Douglas Wiggin |
