But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.
July 4th fireworks exhale over the Hudson sadly. It is beautiful that they have to disappear. It's like the time you said I love you madly. That was an hour ago. It's been a fervent year.
A tired man lay down his head in a dusty room so dim, and for so long his wife did shake and yell to waken him. Meanwhile his thoughts, his dreams, did stir of sandy, red bullfights, of powder-blasts in the air and carnival delights. Yet still his wife was in despair in a dusty room so dim, for she knew death was a whore not far from tempting him.
Fireworks are pretty, but in the wrong mind they can be downright dangerous.
Kiss is a Fourth of July fireworks show with a backbeat.
If Paris is a city of lights, Sydney is the city of fireworks.