RED in Classic Quotes

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Quotes from Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton
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 Current Search - red in Ethan Frome
1  It was part of the sun's red and of the pure glitter on the snow.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In III
2  As they drove away the sun sank behind the hill and the pine-boles turned from red to grey.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In IX
3  A red sun stood over the grey rim of the fields, behind trees that looked black and brittle.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In VIII
4  Under the open sky the light was still clear, with a reflection of cold red on the eastern hills.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In IX
5  The shawl had slipped from her shoulders and was dragging at her down-trodden heels, and in her hands she carried the fragments of the red glass pickle-dish.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In VII
6  She set the lamp on the table, and he saw that it was carefully laid for supper, with fresh doughnuts, stewed blueberries and his favourite pickles in a dish of gay red glass.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In IV
7  She looked so small and pinched, in her poor dress, with the red scarf wound about her, and the cold light turning her paleness sallow, that Ethan stood before her without speaking.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In VIII
8  The sunrise burned red in a pure sky, the shadows on the rim of the wood-lot were darkly blue, and beyond the white and scintillating fields patches of far-off forest hung like smoke.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In III
9  She changed her position, leaning forward to bend her head above her work, so that he saw only the foreshortened tip of her nose and the streak of red in her hair; then she slipped to her feet, saying "I can't see to sew," and went back to her chair by the lamp.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In V
10  And there were other sensations, less definable but more exquisite, which drew them together with a shock of silent joy: the cold red of sunset behind winter hills, the flight of cloud-flocks over slopes of golden stubble, or the intensely blue shadows of hemlocks on sunlit snow.
Ethan Frome By Edith Wharton
ContextHighlight   In I