C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.

Foot—Feet

Nay, her foot speaks.

Shakespeare.

Feet like sunny gems on our English green.

Tennyson.

The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light.

Shakespeare.

Feet that run on willing errands!

Longfellow.

Footprints on the sands of time.

Longfellow.

Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen.

Shakespeare.

And the prettiest foot; Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes to her feet as they steal in and out, and play at bo-peep under her petticoats, Ah! Mr. Trapland?

Congreve.

Steps with a tender foot, light as on air,
The lovely, lordly creature floated on.

Tennyson.

So lightly walks, she not one mark imprints,
Nor brushes off the dews, nor soils the tints.

Churchill.

O happy earth,
Whereon thy innocent feet doe ever tread!

Spenser.

As if the wind, not she, did walk,
Nor pressed a flower, nor bowed a stalk.

Ben Jonson.

There is as much expression in the feet as in the hands.

Chamfort.

A foot more light, a step more true,
Ne’er from the heath-flower dashed the dew.

Scott.

Her pretty feet, like snails, did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they played at bo-peep,
Did soon draw in again.

Robert Herrick.

So light a foot will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.

Shakespeare.

The flower she touched on dipped and rose.

Tennyson.

Her feet beneath her petticoat like little mice stole in and out, as if they feared the light.

Suckling.

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