Quotes
Quotes about End
There is no real evil in life, except great pain; all the rest is imaginary, and depends on the light in which we view things.
Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others pain And perish in our own.
Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others' pain And perish in our own.
Man endures pain as an undeserved punishment; woman accepts it as a natural heritage.
From the mingled strength of shade and light A new creation rises to my sight, Such heav'nly figures from his pencil flow, So warm with light his blended colors glow. . . . . The glowing portraits, fresh from life, that bring Home to our hearts the truth from which they spring.
Painting with all its technicalities, difficulties, and peculiar ends, is nothing but a noble and expressive language, invaluable as the vehicle of thought, but by itself nothing.
Every time I paint a portrait I lose a friend.
I send thee pansies while the year is young, Yellow as sunshine, purple as the night; Flowers of remembrance, ever fondly sung By all the chiefest of the Sons of Light; And if in recollection lives regret For wasted days and dreams that were not true, I tell thee that the "pansy freak'd with jet" Is still the heart's ease that the poets knew Take all the sweetness of a gift unsought, And for the pansies send me back a thought.
He who has gold makes and accomplishes whatever he wishes in the world and finally uses it to send souls to paradise.
Then there is that glorious Epicurean paradox, uttered by my friend, the Historian in one of his flashing moments: "Give us the luxuries of life, and we will dispense with its necessaries."
Frederick Buechner,'Whistling in the Dark' When a child is born, a father is born. A mother is born, too of course, but at least for her it's a gradual process. Body and soul, she has nine months to get used to what's happening. She becomes what's happening. But for even the best-prepared father, it happens all at once. On the other side of a plate-glass window, a nurse is holding up something roughly the size of a loaf of bread for him to see for the first time. Even if he should decide to abandon it forever ten minutes later, the memory will nag him to the grave. He has seen the creation of the world. It has his mark on it. He has its mark on him. Both marks are, for better or for worse, indelible. All sons, like all daughters, are prodigals if they're smart. Assuming the Old Man doesn't run out on them first, they will run out on him if they are to survive, and if he's smart he won't put up too much of a fuss. A wise father sees all this coming, and maybe that's why he keeps his distance from the start. He must survive too. Whether they ever find their way home again, none can say for sure, but it's the risk he must take if they're ever to find their way at all. In the meantime, the world tends to have a soft spot in its heart for lost children. Lost fathers have to fend for themselves. Even as the father lays down the law, he knows that someday his children will break it as they need to break it if ever they're to find something better than law to replace it. Until and unless that happens, there's no telling the scrapes they will get into trying to lose him and find themselves. Terrible blnders will be made-dissapointments and failures, hurts and losses of every kind. And they'll keep making them even after they've found themselves too, of course, because growing up is a process that goes on and on. And every hard knock they ever get, knocks the father even harder still, if that's possible, and if and when they finally come through more or less in one piece at the end, there's maybe no rejoicing greater than his in all creation. -Fatherhood.
Excuse me, then! you know my heart; But dearest friends, alas! must part.
Say good-bye er howdy-do-- What's the odds betwixt the two? Comin'--goin'--every day-- Best friends first to go away-- Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold Than their weight in solid gold, Slips their grip while greetin' you,-- Say good-bye er howdy-do?
I have been thinking that I would make a proposition to my Republican friends.... That if they will top telling lies about the Democrats, we will stop telling the truth about them.
I know my Republican friends were glad to see my wife feeding an elephant in India. She gave him sugar and nuts. But of course the elephant wasn't satisfied.
What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
And beauty, for confiding youth, Those shocks of passion can prepare That kill the bloom before its time, And blanch, without the owner's crime, The most resplendent hair.
Love is an alliance of friendship and animalism; if the former predominates it is passion exalted and refined; if the latter, gross and sensual.
His patient soul endures what Heav'n ordains, But neither feels nor fears ideal pains.
Endurance is the crowning quality, And patience all the passion of great hearts.
Have patience and endure; this unhappiness will one day be beneficial. [Lat., Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim.]
For the friendship of two, the patience of one is required.
I have ten thousand for defense, but none to surrender; if you want our weapons come and get them.
One flag, one land, one heart, one hand, One Nation evermore! - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.,
I do love My country's good with a respect more tender, More holy and profound, then mine own life, My dear wife's estimate, her womb increase, And treasure of my loins.
