Quotes
Quotes about Day
O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before, Forever June may pour her warm red wine Of life and passions,--sweeter days are thine!
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing, Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
In the under-wood and the over-wood There is murmur and trill this day, For every bird is in lyric mood, And the wind will have its way.
The search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of his own life. To become aware of the possibility of the search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair.
The mountains, rivers, earth, grasses, trees, and forests are always emanating a subtle, precious light, day and night, always emanating a subtle, precious sound, demonstrating and expounding to all people the unsurpassed ultimate truth.
Take a little rum The less you take the better Pour it in the lakes Of Wener or of Wetter. Dip a spoonful out And mind you don't get groggy, Pour it in the lake Of Winnipissiogie. Stir the mixture well Lest it prove inferior, Then put half a drop Into Lake Superior. Every other day Take a drop in water, You'll be better soon Or at least you oughter.
Oh, powerful bacillus, With wonder how you fill us, Every day! While medical detectives, With powerful objectives, Watch your play.
But, when the wit began to wheeze, And wine had warm'd the politician, Cur'd yesterday of my disease, I died last night of my physician.
He doth entreat your grace, my noble lord, To visit him to-morrow or next day: He is within, with two right reverend fathers, Divinely bent to meditation, And in no worldly suits would he be moved To draw him from his holy exercise.
Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation... Tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. His anxiety subsides. His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.
Some day, some day of days, threading the street With idle, heedless pace, Unlooking for such grace, I shall behold your face! Some day, some day of days, thus may we meet.
You grow up on the day you have your first real laugh at, yourself.
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
to be nobody-but-myself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make me everybody else means, to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting.
I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it flaps out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-- You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
But each day brings its petty dust our soon-choked souls to fill, and we forget because we must, and not because we will.
The world men inhabit is rather bleak. It is a world full of doubt and confusion, where vulnerability must be hidden, not shared; where competition, not co-operation, is the order of the day; where men sacrifice the possibility of knowing their own children and sharing in their upbringing, for the sake of a job they may have chosen by chance, which may not suit them and which in many cases dominates their lives to the exclusion of much else.
If Mr. Vincent Price were to be co-starred with Miss Bette Davis in a story by Mr. Edgar Allan Poe directed by Mr. Roger Corman, it could not fully express the pent-up violence and depravity of a single day in the life of the average family.
I told my wife that a husband is like a fine wine; he gets better with age. The next day, she locked me in the cellar.
It's not as great a day for the bride as she thinks. She's not marrying the best man.
My mother-in-law broke up my marriage. My wife came home from work one day and found me in bed with her.
A diplomat is a man who always remembers a woman's birthday but never remembers her age.
And if you can be merry then, I'll say A man may weep upon his wedding day.
For the heavens, he shows me where the bachelors sit, and there live we as merry as the day is long.
