he needed no encouragement to do it but it was still a challenge. A very lofty goal. But he was the man to do the job and the only man who could do it right. He was it. So why was he so complacent? Just do it.
I sat down to my computer one day and began to write a story about too sisters separated while young due to the misuse of their powers. Within a 6 month period I was able to write two and a half books. Over 265,000 words the story seemed to just jump from my mind to the pages. Book one had 416 pages while book two had only 330 pages. I had the lofty goal of getting it published before the end of the year, but what I did not know was that I would have to right book proposals, a short brief summary on the book, and finally something about myself and why I am writing basically have I ever written before. The answer to that one is yes, but what I have written was software specific for hospitals. Only nurses training on hospital software would ever see my writing it was a how to use the software guide. It is in hospitals across the country, but it is not a published work. It does not even carry my name. So how can I get someone to pick up my book and read it. How can I get a publisher or agent to be interested if I can’t write a successful book query. I have sent to three fantasy book publisher and two agents. Now I play the waiting game with all these self publishers begging me for my money to publish it. I could go that way but I want to be a real author, I want to see my story jump from the pages and captivate the reader. So I sit here and I practice trying to write about different words rather than finish my third book, my characters sitting in limbo waiting for and ending that may never come, because why waste my time and write them an ending for a story that may never see the light of day.
IT was a lofty aspiration to say the least but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying. I mean who’s to say what’s worth anything at all? I couldn’t tell you for sure. But I do know a little discouragement like that is certainly not enough to dissuade me.
Climbing towards that spot on the horizon where the sun always sits for a while before it goes to sleep. I wish I could see what it dreams about. I wish I could feel what it burns for. Why warm this measly planet from that lofty seat, why share your riches if you are a king?
the skys galor,
ranging in pink, purple, orange, brown, and white,
I see the clouds where I want to reside, where I want my life to lodge!
there it is. In each step that I take forward, backward, leftward, there it is!
I resign from resenting myself, I readmit to remaining myself!
because no one can doubt my abilities but me,
I loft in the air when I want to, when I tuck away the scariest of my fears,
appear to me as though you threaten me, and I will soar above you.
An eagle flaps far, far, far, above the trees that impede his flight,
thus so do I!
some tree tops have smiles, some tree tops devious in sharp tips!
why is here shower so long?
why is she taking the nights day to scrub her bodily amazement?
I come about, striking my own flame to explode in a pack of oil barells–
when instead I should be the fire that ignites inside the bonfire bit of my ambitions!
I rise!
I grill my self exhaustingly until I seizure the very first and last retirement of my self-inflicted sins!
President of the student body! A lofty goal, to be sure, but Celeste felt certain she was popular enough, cute enough, and devious enough to slaughter Matt Mongo at the polls, even though he was a team captain. Who really cared about lacrosse, anyway?
She had always thought that he looked so regal; legs propped up on his stool, stuffy clothes that probably cost more money than her entire village back home – no, that isn’t home anymore – made in a year. Renard had always said that he was putting on airs, pretending to be a lofty and careless noble for show. That deep down underneath all of the pretense and silliness, he was a caring man who was dedicated to his people. She struggled to decide whether or not she could believe that. Still, if anyone knew anything about Gallin, it would be Renard.
“They dare to stand there and look down on us from their lofty heights? Well, I say no more,” she declared, looking at each of the men surrounding her. “Tonight, we show them who holds the high ground. Tonight, we take what is ours. Tonight, we rage!”
The cost was high, but she knew that it would pay off in the end. She knew the pain she would go through. The nights wrought with worry. The hours of unrelenting agony. But that will all mean nothing once she holds the newborn babe in her arms.
I don’t know what to write about “lofty” other than to state: so much for overcoming this case of writer’s block. Maybe reading about flesh eating bacteria in the Atlantic, a mass murder in Syria, Ebola in Africa, and other things of that nature are interfering with my ability to string something together that’s not knotted up in pain and suffering. And then I’m supposed to care about this new restaurant not many of my “hipster” friends have heard about before fawning over this new thing that popped over here and that great deal that’s happening over there – because switching gears like that is just so easy?
She loftly looked at the the scene before her, a ghost of a tear slid down her face as the memories of the past filled her head. Memories she could no longer afford to remember. This would be the last time she would think of vast lands filled with trees and running through the forest, laughing and playing, having no care of the world and what society deems proper. There were only laughs and childish games, which she would play, ruining her dresses and getting dirt all over her. She didn’t care at that time, but those times were gone. Now there was only to be a proper lady, she gave that up to be with the mad she was forced to marry. Gathering the skirt of her dress daintily in her hands, she walked to her wedding.
perching, I wish, on lofty wisps
of cloud fluff, miles above
this skin, this itch and scratch
I wish I were bird-high and coasting
or climbing, or anything
away from here
It was high for the effort she had put into it, and the air that still rushed in and out of her lungs at she rested at the precipice, but she still could not see any view greater than her own backyard.
I found myself standing at the top of a lofty building located in the heart of downtown. I walked to the edge and understood how insignificant one comparing yourself to the whole world.
Very cool tool which I will share with my colleagues. That “j” is annoying me though. I noticed it a fraction of a second after pushing submit. great to be able to edit!
Lofty like the tallest trees.
Swinging in my uncle’s arms as he lifts me high wjere the grownups talk in voices that I don’t understand.
I’m living in another dimension.
Where childhood lets me study the smallest details like a camera on micro while everyone else is macro.
I can have a lofty manner. I do look down upon those that choose to be ignorant. Is that wrong? I feel like choosing to be stupid is ridiculous especially if you have the means to educate yourself and learn. We have independent thought, so why don’t we use it? How completely depressing.
The kid’s lofty attitude turned off most of his new-found friends. This was the country, not the city. They were not impressed by his iPad or other gadgets. They were more concerned that he could not keep up with them while running or that he could not catch a fish to save his life. This was going to be a long summer for the rich city kid.
Above the lofty terrace was an American flag. It was tattered by the wind and rain. It meant the world to Oscar. He had come from Guatemala in search of a better life. As he looked out on the view from the veranda of his huge mansion, he knew he had found it.
And with a lofty smile she did make,
My heart fell,
Into her hands.
I whispered a small plea, ‘Do not break,’
And with a lofty smile she obeyed.
With a lofty smile she spoke,
Sweet words that I couldn’t make out,
But with a lofty smile
I nodded.
There were many stories of the ex-wrestler living on the third floor of the crumbling apartment. People judged him because of his tough face and lofty build. Some say he killed a man. Other speak of his lost family of cannibals.
Baekhyun has always hated his height. Why? He was always the arm rest, the one near the front of the line, the one feeling weird when he went on a date with a girl in high heels, it was totally and truly unfair. It didn’t help that his supposed best friend always gave him a tough time for it. Like now, for example:
“Hey, how’s the weather down there?”
“Chanyeol, not now.”
“No, I’m being serious. If I get hit by the sunlight sooner than you, does that mean I get warmer than you?”
“Chanyeol.”
“So then it’s colder down there and–”
“Why can we never just have a peaceful afternoon, you giant?!”
The stupid guy just grinned. “Because I’m a giant.”
I have no lofty aspirations for us, just the simple act of meeting would be enough. Just seeing you pass me on the street and do a double-take as you recognize me. Something like that would be nice before I leave.
The boy in the corner was definitely a problem. He seemed like he was seperate from the rest. And whenever anyone approached him, he gave them a lofty expression. He refused to talk to anyone even to people that obviously knew him from somewhere. Agent G wondered why he was making it so much harder for himself.
As lofty as the university I am in is, the pure heat from the middle of Florida combined with humidity and no breeze is crazy. It could be worse though, it could be raining.
His lofty aspirations were coming to an end. No other way to describe it, once the disease grabs hold of your body, the only things you can think about are how far it is to the nearest bathroom and who is in the way. Aspirations. Aspirating in an entirely different way now.
Cynthia frowned worriedly as the breeze brushed gently past. A canopy of trees covered the land as far as the eye could see. She turned to her companion, unsure. “Are you sure this thing is stable, Cathy?”
Catherine laughed, and shrugged. “Well, if it isn’t, we’ll certainly have something to write home about!”
Cynthia frown grew deeper. “That’s not reassuring.”
I had lofty and great expectations for my day when I arose at the dawn breaking hour of five am. So filled, was I with fervor and anticipation for the great feats which I would accomplish. When I arrived in the kitchen I found the coffee canister devoid of even a mite of coffee and I realised the day was ruined.
I reached great and lofty heights as i spanned the hill by my house . the trees were in full bloom , bright greens and pinks of the flowers hailing the spring. I wrapped my shawl tighter around my mein locking out the cold and looked to the last remaining section of the walk , wondering what great things I would see when I reached the summit.
“Ideals,” she said, her nose in the air. “Don’t you have any? Or do you just live your life in the metaphorical mud, crawling through the garbage of the world and never looking up at the rest of the world above you?”
“Above me?” he snarled. “You think you’re above me?”
High ideals and goals are what I think of. Someone who is very ambitious, and has drive. In a good way, not a bad way. It’s good to aim high, so if you miss you can still land amongst the stars, as the credo goes.
They told me that my ambitions were far too lofty, and I believed them. I dropped my dreams like hot coals against my feet, and I packed one bag and traveled down abandoned railroads for a good portion of my life.
How much schooling, intelligence, and hope had I wasted by believing in those who didn’t believe in me? It was a fruitless exchange, and the world was paying the price for it.
Aaron found that they were not actually enjoying the height as much as they thought they would; the air was edging too close to humid, and the planks forming the tree-house were damp.
She holds her wine glass in a way that just oozes refinement. I smiled and nodded with every detail that tumbled out of her mouth, even though I forgot them immediately. For every lofty ambition I’ve ever had, I can’t dream of the life she’s lived.
She had lofty aspirations for her life. She dreamed of travelling, of writing a novel, and – most importantly – of falling in love. However, her lofty aspirations were beyond the reach of her practical lifestyle, and it’s practical goals.
When she was young, her father build her a treehouse, so she could be a little closer to her dreams.
In the end, it turned out that your lofty ideals were not so lofty after all – were even logical, practical, _attainable_ – it was too unfortunate that you realized this little fact in the exact moment that you let go of them, and it was, simply, too late.
he needed no encouragement to do it but it was still a challenge. A very lofty goal. But he was the man to do the job and the only man who could do it right. He was it. So why was he so complacent? Just do it.
I sat down to my computer one day and began to write a story about too sisters separated while young due to the misuse of their powers. Within a 6 month period I was able to write two and a half books. Over 265,000 words the story seemed to just jump from my mind to the pages. Book one had 416 pages while book two had only 330 pages. I had the lofty goal of getting it published before the end of the year, but what I did not know was that I would have to right book proposals, a short brief summary on the book, and finally something about myself and why I am writing basically have I ever written before. The answer to that one is yes, but what I have written was software specific for hospitals. Only nurses training on hospital software would ever see my writing it was a how to use the software guide. It is in hospitals across the country, but it is not a published work. It does not even carry my name. So how can I get someone to pick up my book and read it. How can I get a publisher or agent to be interested if I can’t write a successful book query. I have sent to three fantasy book publisher and two agents. Now I play the waiting game with all these self publishers begging me for my money to publish it. I could go that way but I want to be a real author, I want to see my story jump from the pages and captivate the reader. So I sit here and I practice trying to write about different words rather than finish my third book, my characters sitting in limbo waiting for and ending that may never come, because why waste my time and write them an ending for a story that may never see the light of day.
The hostess had described the girl’s boyfriend as “lofty”, which set off alarm bells in Ohara’s mind: In a place like this, that only meant one thing.
IT was a lofty aspiration to say the least but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying. I mean who’s to say what’s worth anything at all? I couldn’t tell you for sure. But I do know a little discouragement like that is certainly not enough to dissuade me.
Climbing towards that spot on the horizon where the sun always sits for a while before it goes to sleep. I wish I could see what it dreams about. I wish I could feel what it burns for. Why warm this measly planet from that lofty seat, why share your riches if you are a king?
the skys galor,
ranging in pink, purple, orange, brown, and white,
I see the clouds where I want to reside, where I want my life to lodge!
there it is. In each step that I take forward, backward, leftward, there it is!
I resign from resenting myself, I readmit to remaining myself!
because no one can doubt my abilities but me,
I loft in the air when I want to, when I tuck away the scariest of my fears,
appear to me as though you threaten me, and I will soar above you.
An eagle flaps far, far, far, above the trees that impede his flight,
thus so do I!
some tree tops have smiles, some tree tops devious in sharp tips!
why is here shower so long?
why is she taking the nights day to scrub her bodily amazement?
I come about, striking my own flame to explode in a pack of oil barells–
when instead I should be the fire that ignites inside the bonfire bit of my ambitions!
I rise!
I grill my self exhaustingly until I seizure the very first and last retirement of my self-inflicted sins!
President of the student body! A lofty goal, to be sure, but Celeste felt certain she was popular enough, cute enough, and devious enough to slaughter Matt Mongo at the polls, even though he was a team captain. Who really cared about lacrosse, anyway?
She had always thought that he looked so regal; legs propped up on his stool, stuffy clothes that probably cost more money than her entire village back home – no, that isn’t home anymore – made in a year. Renard had always said that he was putting on airs, pretending to be a lofty and careless noble for show. That deep down underneath all of the pretense and silliness, he was a caring man who was dedicated to his people. She struggled to decide whether or not she could believe that. Still, if anyone knew anything about Gallin, it would be Renard.
“They dare to stand there and look down on us from their lofty heights? Well, I say no more,” she declared, looking at each of the men surrounding her. “Tonight, we show them who holds the high ground. Tonight, we take what is ours. Tonight, we rage!”
The cost was high, but she knew that it would pay off in the end. She knew the pain she would go through. The nights wrought with worry. The hours of unrelenting agony. But that will all mean nothing once she holds the newborn babe in her arms.
Just ordered pizza
Not LOFTY, just Pizza-hut
Website was too slow!
I had a tour group
A few LOFTY Northern folk
Each wants my pizza.
!Haiku-mann!
I don’t know what to write about “lofty” other than to state: so much for overcoming this case of writer’s block. Maybe reading about flesh eating bacteria in the Atlantic, a mass murder in Syria, Ebola in Africa, and other things of that nature are interfering with my ability to string something together that’s not knotted up in pain and suffering. And then I’m supposed to care about this new restaurant not many of my “hipster” friends have heard about before fawning over this new thing that popped over here and that great deal that’s happening over there – because switching gears like that is just so easy?
She loftly looked at the the scene before her, a ghost of a tear slid down her face as the memories of the past filled her head. Memories she could no longer afford to remember. This would be the last time she would think of vast lands filled with trees and running through the forest, laughing and playing, having no care of the world and what society deems proper. There were only laughs and childish games, which she would play, ruining her dresses and getting dirt all over her. She didn’t care at that time, but those times were gone. Now there was only to be a proper lady, she gave that up to be with the mad she was forced to marry. Gathering the skirt of her dress daintily in her hands, she walked to her wedding.
perching, I wish, on lofty wisps
of cloud fluff, miles above
this skin, this itch and scratch
I wish I were bird-high and coasting
or climbing, or anything
away from here
The roof was, technically, not all that high.
It was high for the effort she had put into it, and the air that still rushed in and out of her lungs at she rested at the precipice, but she still could not see any view greater than her own backyard.
Disdain.
Disgust.
Utter repulsion.
The list went on as he looked down at the people below him – in both terms of the word.
The ignorant fools, with their laughter and their cheerfulness.
How could they be of the same city? Or the same species even?
Life comes in many ways to live a life, some prefer a lofty style and influence to what is around them, to each its own and thats the beauty.
I found myself standing at the top of a lofty building located in the heart of downtown. I walked to the edge and understood how insignificant one comparing yourself to the whole world.
Very cool tool which I will share with my colleagues. That “j” is annoying me though. I noticed it a fraction of a second after pushing submit. great to be able to edit!
Lofty like the tallest trees.
Swinging in my uncle’s arms as he lifts me high wjere the grownups talk in voices that I don’t understand.
I’m living in another dimension.
Where childhood lets me study the smallest details like a camera on micro while everyone else is macro.
I can have a lofty manner. I do look down upon those that choose to be ignorant. Is that wrong? I feel like choosing to be stupid is ridiculous especially if you have the means to educate yourself and learn. We have independent thought, so why don’t we use it? How completely depressing.
The kid’s lofty attitude turned off most of his new-found friends. This was the country, not the city. They were not impressed by his iPad or other gadgets. They were more concerned that he could not keep up with them while running or that he could not catch a fish to save his life. This was going to be a long summer for the rich city kid.
Above the lofty terrace was an American flag. It was tattered by the wind and rain. It meant the world to Oscar. He had come from Guatemala in search of a better life. As he looked out on the view from the veranda of his huge mansion, he knew he had found it.
And with a lofty smile she did make,
My heart fell,
Into her hands.
I whispered a small plea, ‘Do not break,’
And with a lofty smile she obeyed.
With a lofty smile she spoke,
Sweet words that I couldn’t make out,
But with a lofty smile
I nodded.
There were many stories of the ex-wrestler living on the third floor of the crumbling apartment. People judged him because of his tough face and lofty build. Some say he killed a man. Other speak of his lost family of cannibals.
Baekhyun has always hated his height. Why? He was always the arm rest, the one near the front of the line, the one feeling weird when he went on a date with a girl in high heels, it was totally and truly unfair. It didn’t help that his supposed best friend always gave him a tough time for it. Like now, for example:
“Hey, how’s the weather down there?”
“Chanyeol, not now.”
“No, I’m being serious. If I get hit by the sunlight sooner than you, does that mean I get warmer than you?”
“Chanyeol.”
“So then it’s colder down there and–”
“Why can we never just have a peaceful afternoon, you giant?!”
The stupid guy just grinned. “Because I’m a giant.”
I have no lofty aspirations for us, just the simple act of meeting would be enough. Just seeing you pass me on the street and do a double-take as you recognize me. Something like that would be nice before I leave.
The boy in the corner was definitely a problem. He seemed like he was seperate from the rest. And whenever anyone approached him, he gave them a lofty expression. He refused to talk to anyone even to people that obviously knew him from somewhere. Agent G wondered why he was making it so much harder for himself.
As lofty as the university I am in is, the pure heat from the middle of Florida combined with humidity and no breeze is crazy. It could be worse though, it could be raining.
His lofty aspirations were coming to an end. No other way to describe it, once the disease grabs hold of your body, the only things you can think about are how far it is to the nearest bathroom and who is in the way. Aspirations. Aspirating in an entirely different way now.
Cynthia frowned worriedly as the breeze brushed gently past. A canopy of trees covered the land as far as the eye could see. She turned to her companion, unsure. “Are you sure this thing is stable, Cathy?”
Catherine laughed, and shrugged. “Well, if it isn’t, we’ll certainly have something to write home about!”
Cynthia frown grew deeper. “That’s not reassuring.”
I had lofty and great expectations for my day when I arose at the dawn breaking hour of five am. So filled, was I with fervor and anticipation for the great feats which I would accomplish. When I arrived in the kitchen I found the coffee canister devoid of even a mite of coffee and I realised the day was ruined.
I reached great and lofty heights as i spanned the hill by my house . the trees were in full bloom , bright greens and pinks of the flowers hailing the spring. I wrapped my shawl tighter around my mein locking out the cold and looked to the last remaining section of the walk , wondering what great things I would see when I reached the summit.
“Ideals,” she said, her nose in the air. “Don’t you have any? Or do you just live your life in the metaphorical mud, crawling through the garbage of the world and never looking up at the rest of the world above you?”
“Above me?” he snarled. “You think you’re above me?”
High ideals and goals are what I think of. Someone who is very ambitious, and has drive. In a good way, not a bad way. It’s good to aim high, so if you miss you can still land amongst the stars, as the credo goes.
They told me that my ambitions were far too lofty, and I believed them. I dropped my dreams like hot coals against my feet, and I packed one bag and traveled down abandoned railroads for a good portion of my life.
How much schooling, intelligence, and hope had I wasted by believing in those who didn’t believe in me? It was a fruitless exchange, and the world was paying the price for it.
Aaron found that they were not actually enjoying the height as much as they thought they would; the air was edging too close to humid, and the planks forming the tree-house were damp.
She holds her wine glass in a way that just oozes refinement. I smiled and nodded with every detail that tumbled out of her mouth, even though I forgot them immediately. For every lofty ambition I’ve ever had, I can’t dream of the life she’s lived.
She had lofty aspirations for her life. She dreamed of travelling, of writing a novel, and – most importantly – of falling in love. However, her lofty aspirations were beyond the reach of her practical lifestyle, and it’s practical goals.
When she was young, her father build her a treehouse, so she could be a little closer to her dreams.
In the end, it turned out that your lofty ideals were not so lofty after all – were even logical, practical, _attainable_ – it was too unfortunate that you realized this little fact in the exact moment that you let go of them, and it was, simply, too late.