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101 " setting all the beetles that were tied to it buzzing sleepily on the end of their strings like a flock of captive emeralds. "
― Gerald Durrell , The Corfu Trilogy (The Corfu Trilogy #1-3)
102 " I thought we were going to have chops,’ complained Larry aggrievedly. ‘I spent all morning getting my taste buds on tiptoe with the thought of chops. What happened to them?’ ‘I’m afraid it’s the owls, dear,’ said Mother apologetically. ‘They have such huge appetites.’ Larry paused, a spoonful of curry halfway to his mouth. "
103 " I lay in the garden in the shade of the tangerine trees and devoured the book, "
104 " Are we having a plague of owls?’ Larry inquired. ‘Are they attacking the larder and zooming out with bunches of chops in their talons? "
105 " Roger and I would squat in the sweet-scented myrtles and lay bets with each other as to whether or not, on this particular morning, George was going to fight an olive tree. "
106 " I’m making some scones,’ said Mother, and sighs of satisfaction ran round the table, for Mother’s scones, wearing cloaks of home-made strawberry jam, butter, and cream, were a delicacy all of us adored. "
107 " Well, I want you all to be polite,’ said Mother firmly, adding, ‘and you’re not to mention owls, Larry. She might think we’re peculiar.’ ‘We are,’ concluded Larry with feeling. "
108 " dropped in on my old shepherd friend Yani who provided us with some bread and fig cake and a straw hat full of wild strawberries to sustain us. "
109 " sleepily through the olive groves, silvered by a moon as large and as white as a magnolia blossom. "
110 " The warm air smelled of the day’s sunshine, of dew, and of a hundred aromatic leaf scents. "
111 " you reached a small half-moon bay, rimmed with white sands and great piles of dried ribbon-weed that had been thrown up by the winter storms and lay along the beach like large, badly made birds’ nests. "
112 " Roger and I would make our way down through the breathless olive groves, vibrating with the cries of the cicadas, and pad our way along the dusty road, Roger sneezing voluptuously as his great paws stirred up the dust, which went up his nose like snuff. "
113 " In my experience it is always the most innocent-looking creatures that can cause you the worst damage. "
― Gerald Durrell , The Whispering Land
114 " The villa that Spiro had found was shaped not unlike a brick and was a bright crushed-strawberry pink with green shutters. It crouched in a cathedral-like grove of olives that sloped down the hillside to the sea, and it was surrounded by a pocket-handkerchief-size garden, the flower-beds laid out with a geometrical accuracy so dear to the Victorians, and the whole thing guarded by a tall, thick hedge of fuchsias that rustled mysteriously with birds. "
― Gerald Durrell , My Family and Other Animals (Corfu Trilogy, #1)
115 " shiny ribbon-weed, looking like dark feather boas, anchored to the sand, "
116 " The garden, for long untended, was an overgrown riot of uninhibited flowers and weeds in which whirled, squeaked, rustled, "
117 " to bring us a handful of figs from his tree or a few almonds, milky and fresh, which we would crack between the smooth stones on the beach. "
118 " The main herd of camels, consisting of six females, was led and ruled by Big Bill, a huge animal with overstuffed humps like a French arm-chair, great plus-fours of curls on his legs, and an expression of such sneering superiority that you longed for him to trip over something and fall down. He would stand towering over you, his belly rumbling, squeaking his long, greeny-yellow teeth together and staring at you with a disbelieving disgust as though you were a child murderer or something similarly obscene. "
― Gerald Durrell , Beasts in My Belfry
119 " dead by all the relatives. You are supposed to be head of the family – stop him writing it.’ ‘You do exaggerate, Larry dear,’ said Mother. ‘Anyway, "
― Gerald Durrell , Birds, Beasts and Relatives (Corfu Trilogy #2)
120 " It was the hottest hour of the day when even the cicadas seem to slow down and falter occasionally in their song. The black ants moved busily across the cloth, gathering the crumbs of our food. "