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If this is the right place for these little phrases, here I go--I just found a little book of notes that I took from favorite books:
"...the dunes, the mountains of sun and heat, the little brows of dune grass trying to hold them in place, the forests of bleached tree trunks rising like ghosts from the sand that smothered them." From Cape Cod by William Martin.
"...sat by the wood stove dealing out solitaire and insults." ----- Martin.
"...love as a kind of sweet madness that colored everything." From the Last Days of Dogtown by Anita Diamant.
"The bright blue of the harbor blinked in and out of view between clapboards and blossoming bushes." ----Diamant.
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Even squirrels know it! 
