History is a ribbon, always unfurling; history is a journey.
She had a ribbon in her long, glossy hair, and her face shone pleasantly with soap.
He rolled the ribbon up tightly, and then tossed it lightly toward her face.
It was a white lamb, decorated from ears to tail with knots of ribbon and with flowers.
He had obtained the ribbon of the Legion of Honour for his father.
According to him, none but soldiers had a right to the ribbon.
The multi-coloured cockades or the bows of ribbon in one shade?
Her hair is not done up, but tied back with a piece of ribbon.
“I had it,” her mother smiled, tying a ribbon to hold the bright curls.
Home with her ribbon and then over to the hospital sped Polly.