leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in. — Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in. — Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in. — Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in. — Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in. — Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
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leave me a smilejust warm enough...to spend a milliongolden afternoons in.

— Sanober Khan, Turquoise Silence
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More “Afternoon” Quotes

When writing a novel a writer should create living people — people not characters. A character is a caricature.
All told, she owned fourteen books, but she saw her story as being made up predominantly of ten of them. Of those ten, s — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
Once, I took the penny whistle you gave me and discovered a spotby the roaring falls where I could play as loud as I wan — Kristen Henderson
Christopher heard a pair of women gossiping nearby, whispering in disapproving undertones. "... Ramsey was found flirtin — Lisa Kleypas, Love in the Afternoon
There is an hour of the afternoon when the plain is on the verge of saying something. It never says, or perhaps it says — Jorge Luis Borges
I am clumsy, drop glasses and get drunk on Monday afternoons. I read Seneca and can recite Shakespeare by heart, but I m — Charlotte Eriksson
Memory is like fiction: or else it's fiction that's like memory. — Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes
Memory is like fiction: or else it' fiction that's like memory. — Haruki Murakami, The Elephant Vanishes
Sometimes it's your fragrance that comes to me, out of the blue, on a crowded road in a Sunday afternoon.But more often, — Sanhita Baruah
Fall in lovewith the energyof the morningstrace your fingers along the lullof the afternoonstake the spirit of the eveni — Sanober Khan
Happiness is a hot bath on a Sunday afternoon. — A.D. Posey
Those dripping crumpets, I can see them now. Tiny crisp wedges of toast, and piping-hot, flaky scones. Sandwiches of unk — Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca