"Throb" Quotes from Famous Books
... and associations by riding up to College Hill in Dan Flannagan's jitney-bus—a youthful, hilarious crowd of alumni. Former students, alumni, parents of graduating Seniors, friends, sweethearts—every train would bring its quota. The campus would again throb and pulsate with that perennial quickening—Commencement. Three days of reunions, Class Day exercises, banquets, and other events, then the final exercises, and—T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., would ... — T. Haviland Hicks Senior • J. Raymond Elderdice
... often to the Gardens she went. There were so many dear places where trees grew and made quiet retreats—all the parks and heaths and green suburbs—and everywhere pairs walked or sat and talked, and were frankly so wholly absorbed in the throb of their own existences that they had no interest in, or curiosity concerning, any other ... — Robin • Frances Hodgson Burnett
... it. Then the punkah flagged, almost ceased. The sweat poured from Spurstow's brow. Should he go out and harangue the coolie? It started forward again with a savage jerk, and a pin came out of the towels. When this was replaced, a tomtom in the coolie-lines began to beat with the steady throb of a swollen artery inside some brain-fevered skull. Spurstow turned on his side and swore gently. There was no movement on Hummil's part. The man had composed himself as rigidly as a corpse, his hands clinched at his sides. The respiration ... — Life's Handicap • Rudyard Kipling
... laurels? In "Les Miserables" are heroes not a few. Gavroche, that green leaf blown about Paris streets; Fantine, the mother; Eponine, the lover; Bishop Bienvenu, the Christian; Jean Valjean, the man,—all are heroic folk. Our hearts throb as we look at them. Gavroche, the lad, dances by as though blown past by the gale. Fantine, shorn of her locks of gold; Fantine, with her bloody lips, because her teeth have been sold to purchase medicine for her sick child—her child, yet a child of shame; Fantine, ... — A Hero and Some Other Folks • William A. Quayle
... and green, undisturbed, except by the shriek of the passing steamer, casting golden-green reflections into the stream at twilight, and shadows of deepest blackness, star-pierced, at remoter depths of night. Here, now and then, a stray gull from the sea sends a flying throb of white light across the mirror below, or the sweeping wings of a hawk paint their moth-like image on the blue surface, or a little flaw of wind shudders across the water in a black ripple; but except for ... — The Atlantic Monthly, Vol. IV, No. 22, Aug., 1859 • Various
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