"High up" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... sunlight poured in through a small grating high up in the massy wall and showed me the form of my companion, the shining silver of his hair, his arms wide-tossed in slumber. Moved by sudden impulse I arose and (despite the ache and stiffness of my limbs) came softly to look upon him as he lay thus, his cares ...
— Martin Conisby's Vengeance • Jeffery Farnol
... seats, wealth the second, and piety the last. In this assignment one or more pews were 'set off' away up in the top of the gallery for the slaves of the social leaders and ministers. At the First Congregational church, Winsted, there were two pews thus 'set off' in the gallery, and they were so high up that they ...
— The Journal of Negro History, Volume 2, 1917 • Various
... recesses, mid tresses, green tresses. Slow dipping, caressing, I've heard A whisper, a chuckle of laughter, a scamper; and high, High up in the air the cry, the call of a bird. And when the night came with a flicker of wings I have heard the earth breathing quiet and slow Like a pulse in the tiny, wild tumult ...
— Miscellany of Poetry - 1919 • Various
... been such a June, not even in Acadia: such lavish wealth in orchard and garden, such abundant promise of harvest in fields choked with grain. And that was why John McIntyre's little brook ran brimful to the clumps of mint and sword-grass, high up on its banks, so content that it made no murmur as it slipped past the ...
— Treasure Valley • Marian Keith
... expressed it (with the simplicity of a woman from a village shop, labouring at the decoration of a street altar for some procession) by burying the bush in these little rosettes, almost too ravishing in colour, this rustic 'pompadour.' High up on the branches, like so many of those tiny rose-trees, their pots concealed in jackets of paper lace, whose slender stems rise in a forest from the altar on the greater festivals, a thousand buds were swelling and opening, paler in colour, but each disclosing ...
— Swann's Way - (vol. 1 of Remembrance of Things Past) • Marcel Proust
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