The dew rose and turned to golden mist, thin as a dream, enveloping them until they seemed gossamer relics of the late night, infinitely transient and already fading.
-- F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Offshore Pirate," Flappersand Philosophers , 1920
The silken hair, too, had suffered to grow all unheeded, and as, in its wild gossamer texture, it floated rather than fell about the face, I could not,even with effort, connect its Arabesque
expression with any idea of simple humanity.
expression with any idea of simple humanity.
-- Edgar Allan Poe, "The Fall of the House of Usher,"Burton's Gentleman's Magazine , 1839