"Blusterous" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... enter in a very faint voice, and the Duke found him lying on the bed. He was looking depressed, even exhausted, the shadow of the blusterous Gournay-Martin of the day before. The rich rosiness of his cheeks had faded to ...
— Arsene Lupin • Edgar Jepson
... levantine softness of voice and manner; when he came in to dinner, out of the wild weather, the moral contrast with the turmoil outside was quite refreshing. Report speaks highly of Captain Grace's seamanship; and I believe in him far more implicitly than I should in one of those hoarse and blusterous Tritons, who think roughness and readiness inseparable, and talk to you as if they were ...
— Border and Bastille • George A. Lawrence
... gray, with a blusterous south-west wind of more than summer strength; and the floods had subsided, but the Trent, barely contained within its banks, was running down on a fierce ebb-tide. They reached Althorpe, and while waiting for the horse-boat to cross to Burringham, Johnny found time to wonder ...
— Hetty Wesley • Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch
... of the soil to reproduce. Davy Crockett, the great bear killer, was "wrathy to kill a bear," and as respects bears and other wild life, one may search the chronicles of his kind in vain for anything beyond the incidents of chase and slaughter. To quote T. B. Thorpe's blusterous bear hunter, the whole matter may be summed up in one sentence: "A bear is started and he is killed." For the average American of the soil, whether wearing out a farm, shotgunning with a headlight the last doe of a woodland, ...
— Guide to Life and Literature of the Southwest • J. Frank Dobie
... bletherskite, has Bell— No fushenless, brashy, mim-mouthed mealy-face, Fratished and perished in the howl-o'-winter. No wind has ever blown too etherish, Too snell to fire her blood: she's always relished A gorly, gousty, blusterous day that sets Her body alow and birselling like a whinfire. But what a windyhash! My wit's wool-gathering; And I'm waffling like a ... But I'd best be stepping, Before he comes: I've far to travel to-night: And I'm not so young ... And Michael mustn't find His tinker-mother, squatted ...
— Krindlesyke • Wilfrid Wilson Gibson |
