Quotes
Quotes about Grace
The genius of a good leader is to leave behind him a situation which common sense, without the grace of genius, can deal with successfully.
Yet, the great ocean hath no tone of power Mightier to reach the soul, in thought's hushed hour, Than yours, ye Lilies! chosen thus and graced!
Some people have told me they don't think a fat penguin really embodies the grace of Linux, which just tells me they have never seen an angry penguin charging at them in excess of 100mph. They'd be a lot more careful about what they say if they had.
Losing is no disgrace if you've given your best.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints, -I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
There's something in't More than my father's skill, which was the great'st Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall for my legacy be sanctified By th' luckiest stars in heaven; and would your honor But give me leave to thy success, I'd venture The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure By such a day and hour.
Lasting harmony with a woman (was) an undertaking in which I twice failed rather disgracefully.
'Cause grace and virtue are within Prohibited degrees of kin; And therefore no true saint allows, They shall be suffer'd to espouse.
To sit, happy married lovers; Phillis trifling with a plover's Egg, while Corydon uncovers with a grace the Sally Lunn, Or dissects the luck pheasant--that, I think, were passing pleasant As I sit along at present, dreaming darkly of a dun.
No doubt they rose up early to observe The rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.
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.
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.
Laughter is the closest thing to the grace of God.
Surely, sir, There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; For, being not propped by ancestry, whose grace Chalks successors their way, nor called upon For high feats done to th' crown, neither allied To eminent assistants, but spiderlike Out of his self-drawing web, 'a gives us note, The force of his own merit makes his way, A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys A place next to the king.
A long and wicked life followed by five minutes of perfect grace gets you into Heaven. An equally long life of decent living and good works followed by one outburst of taking the name of the Lord in vainâthen have a heart attack at that moment and be damned for eternity. Is that the system?
There, but for the grace of God, goes John Bradford.
There can be a fundamental gulf of gracelessness in a human heart which neither our love nor our courage can bridge.
Beauty and grace command the world.
Grace is but glory begun, and glory is but grace perfected.
Since you go where all have gone before, why do you torment your your disgraceful life with such mean ambitions, O miser? [Lat., Abiturus illuc priores abierunt, Quid mente caeca torques spiritum? Tibi dico, avare.]
Nothing can atone for the lack of modesty; without which beauty is ungraceful and wit detestable.
Money is the most important thing in the world. It represents health, strength, honor, generosity, and beauty as conspicuously as the want of it represents illness, weakness, disgrace, meanness, and ugliness.
O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as the time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves-- Hides her fruit under them, hard to find. . . . . But by and by, when the flowers grow few And the fruits are dwindling and small to view-- Out she comes in her matron grace With the purple myriads of her race; Full of plenty from root to crown, Showering plenty her feet adown. While far over head hang gorgeously Large luscious berries of sanguine dye, For the best grows highest, always highest, Upon the mulberry-tree.
Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name.
The coconut trees, lithe and graceful, crowd the beach like a minuet of slender elderly virgins adopting flippant poses.
