Quotes
Quotes about Day
On the king's gate the moss grew gray; The king came not. They call'd him dead; And made his eldest son, one day, Slave in his father's stead.
In good King Charles's golden days When royalty no harm meant, A zealous high-churchman was I, And so I got preferment.
And he saw a chariot with a couple of horsemen, a chariot of asses, and a chariot of camels; and he hearkened diligently with much heed: And he cried, A lion: My lord, I stand continually upon the watchtower in the daytime, and I am set in my ward whole nights: And, behold, here cometh a chariot of men, with a couple of horsemen. And he answered and said, Babylon is fallen, is fallen; and all the graven images of her gods he hath broken unto the ground.
On Sundays, at the matin-chime, The Alpine peasants, two and three, Climb up here to pray; Burghers and dames, at summer's prime, Ride out to church from Chamberry, Dight with mantles gay, But else it is a lonely time Round the Church of Brou.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.
Of all the days that's in the week, I dearly love but one day, And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday.
How still the morning of the hallow'd day! Mute is the voice of rural labour, hush'd The ploughboy's whistle, and the milkmaid's song.
Gently on tiptoe Sunday creeps, Cheerfully from the stars he peeps, Mortals are all asleep below, None in the village hears him go; E'en chanticleer keeps very still, For Sunday whispered, 'twas his will.
The Sundaies of man's life, Thredded together on time's string, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternal, glorious King. On Sunday heaven's gates stand ope; Blessings are plentiful and rife. More plentiful than hope.
Now, really, this appears the common case Of putting too much Sabbath into Sunday-- But what is your opinion, Mrs. Grundy?
Day of the Lord, as all our days should be!
For, bless the gude mon, gin he had his ain way, He's na let a cat on the Sabbath say "mew;" Nae birdie maun whistle, nae lambie maun play, An' Phoebus himsel' could na travel that day, As he'd find a new Joshua in Andie Agnew.
E'en Sunday shines no Sabbath day to me.
Satire is what closes Saturday night.
Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense.
Someday man will harness the rise and fall of the tides, imprison the power of the sun, and release atomic power.
One day at least in every week, The sects of every kind Their doctrines here are sure to seek, And just as sure to find.
Autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.
Summe up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay And growth of it; if, with thy watch, that too Be down then winde up both; since we shall be Most surely judg'd, make thy accounts agree.
Let not soft slumber close your eyes, Before you've collected thrice The train of action through the day! Where have my feet chose out their way? What have I learnt, where'er I've been, From all I've heard, from all I've seen? What have I more that's worth the knowing? What have I done that's worth the doing? What have I sought that I should shun? What duty have I left undone, Or into what new follies run? These self-inquiries are the road That lead to virtue and to God.
In my day, we didn't have self-esteem, we had self-respect, and no more of it than we had earned. -Jane Haddam.
This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.
We wait all these years to find someone who understands us, I thought, someone who accepts us as we are, someone with a wizard's power to melt stone to sunlight, who can bring us happiness in spite of trials, who can face our dragons in the night, who can transform us into the soul we choose to be. Just yesterday I found that magical Someone is the face we see in the mirror: It's us and our homemade masks. -Richard Bach.
Nirvana is not the blowing out of the candle. It is the extinguishing of the flame because day is come. -Rabindranath Tagore.
You can't live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you. -John Wooden.
