"Satiny" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... into the gaping holds of Clark's steamships—seen the blast furnaces vomit their molten metal—seen the rhythmic pumps and dynamos send water and light through every artery of the young city—seen the veneer mills ripping out flexible miles of their satiny wood—seen the power house on the American side making carbide to the low rumble of thousands of horsepower, and seen the electric railway that linked Ironville with St. Marys. And all the time Clark ...
— The Rapids • Alan Sullivan
... hill, among a grove of pines, the most romantic of all trees. Life, a powerful but clumsy dramatist, does not reject the most claptrap "situations," which a sophisticated playwright would discard as too obvious. For this sandy plateau, strewn with satiny pine-needles, was the very horizon that had looked so blue and beckoning from the little house by the pond. Not far away was the great Airedale estate, which Gissing had known only at an admiring distance—and now he was living ...
— Where the Blue Begins • Christopher Morley
... of the same genus has a satiny white hue; but, infinite as they are in number, so most diversified are they in their habits, mode of flight, colours, and markings. Some are yellow, others bright red, green, purple, and blue. Many are bordered or spangled with metallic lines ...
— The Western World - Picturesque Sketches of Nature and Natural History in North - and South America • W.H.G. Kingston
... by without wasting a look upon it! But its beauty is only the beginning of its wonderful claim upon us for our admiration. Look at that field of flowering grass, the triticum vulgare,—see how its waves follow the breeze in satiny alternations of light and shadow. You admire it for its lovely aspect; but when you remember that this flowering grass is wheat, the finest food of the highest human races, it gains a dignity, a glory, that its beauty ...
— The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table • Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (The Physician and Poet not the Jurist)
... swiftness of the impulse he swept her into them until the eager face lay on his breast, the smooth black braids pressing his lips with their satiny folds. ...
— The Maid of the Whispering Hills • Vingie E. Roe
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