"Simmering" Quotes from Famous Books
 ... pan of soapstone was a line of moss, which absorbed the walrus fat, and served as a wick for the lamp. This emitted a line of thin, reddish blue flame. Over the light, and supported by a framework, was a large soapstone pot in which bits of walrus meat were simmering. By the side of the pot a large piece of walrus blubber hung over a rod. In the heat of the lamp this slowly exuded a thick oil which, falling into the pan below and saturating the moss wick, gave a constant ...
— The Eternal Maiden • T. Everett Harre
... Canada registered one of the highest rates of real growth among the OECD nations, averaging about 3.2%. With its great natural resources, skilled labor force, and modern capital plant, Canada has excellent economic prospects. In mid-1990, however, the long-simmering problems between English- and French-speaking areas became so acute that observers spoke openly of a possible split in the confederation; ...
— The 1991 CIA World Factbook • United States. Central Intelligence Agency.
... fire, I watched it till it began to boil; then removing it from the top of the brands, I placed it close beside the fire, and leaving it simmering, I retired to my tent, where, having taken off my shoes, and a few of my garments, I lay down on my palliasse, and was not long in falling asleep. I believe I slept soundly for some time, thinking and dreaming of nothing; suddenly, ...
— The Romany Rye - A Sequel to 'Lavengro' • George Borrow
... wound his way through an overcrowded huddle of furniture that was gloomily, uglily utilitarian. A sideboard spread in pressed glass; a chest of drawers piled high with rough-dry family wash; a coal-range, and the smell and sound of simmering. A garland of garlic, caught up like smilax, and another of drying red peppers. On a shelf above the sink, cluttered there with all the pitiful unprivacy of poverty, a layout, to recite which will label me with the nigritude of the realist, but which is actually the nigritude of ...
— Humoresque - A Laugh On Life With A Tear Behind It • Fannie Hurst
... first, and finally in batches, they shouldered their tools and moodily withdrew from the attack. As they went weary eyes glanced back with hate and disgust at the frowning buttresses of the hill, with awe at the steaming cloud hanging above the simmering waters of the suspended lake. The depressing shadow of Devil's Hill had ...
— The Golden Woman - A Story of the Montana Hills • Ridgwell Cullum
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