Quotes
Quotes about Rest
A good man, through obscurest aspirations Has still an instinct of the one true way. [Ger., Ein guter Mensch, in seinem dunkeln Drange, Ist sich des rechten Weges sohl bewusst.]
There is so much good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the best of us, that it ill behaves any of us to find fault with the rest of us.
What some invent, the rest enlarge.
. . . The manners of women are the surest criterion by which to determine whether a republican government is practicable in a nation or not.
Nothing's more dull and negligent Than an old, lazy government, That knows no interest of state, But such as serves a present strait.
The nearest approach to immortality on earth is a government bureau.
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the grasshopper's--he takes the lead In summer luxury--he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Gratitude is the fairest blossom which springs from the soul.
I gazed upon the glorious sky And the green mountains round, And thought that when I came to lie At rest within the ground, 'Twere pleasant, that in flowery June When brooks send up a cheerful tune, And groves a joyous sound, The sexton's hand, my grave to make, The rich, green mountain-turf should break.
The solitary, silent, solemn scene, Where Caesars, heroes, peasants, hermits lie, Blended in dust together; where the slave Rests from his labors; where th' insulting proud Resigns his powers; the miser drops his hoard: Where human folly sleeps.
Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.
What need a man forestall his date of grief, And run to meet what he would most avoid?
FIRE HAS LEFT THE HEARTH Fire has left the hearth Nautilus climbed from shell Perfume flowed from bottle Prisoner gone from cell Butterfly flutterbied cocoon nor hand restrained by glove Jesus away from manger Cage left by Spirit Dove. Sparklings soared away from wand. Chick's egg become the bird. Omkar sung from out the throat Violin's notes now heard. Buddhist temple pine cone tabernacle'd godlet seed Shattered that it might manifest thousand forests of fir tree Eternal snow of mountain top now nurses meadow flowers. Shining never held by sun relentless melts ice towers. Love has left its spring the heart Is now a liquid pond Host stolen from the chalice consumed in mouth of God Starlight abandoned star a billion years ago Left that tonight you might have its sight and know Know Love is forever no drop of God ever dies Lover not bound by form of love God's bodies are not God's souls (to his wife and children on the death of Robert S) (Baba Hari Das: is the author of love is more powerful than lover for love is not bound by form).
The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone. -Harriet Beecher Stowe.
For whom he means to make an often guest, One dish shall serve; and welcome make the rest.
What we call real estate--the solid ground to build a house on--is the broad foundation on which nearly all the guilt of this world rests.
And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair, With gold in her garment glittering, And she combs her golden hair.
The highest happiness, the purest joys of life, wear out at last. [Ger., Das beste Gluck, des Lebens schonste Kraft Ermattet endlich.]
Happiness is a wine of the rarest vintage, and seems insipid to a vulgar taste.
We are more interested in making others believe we are happy than in trying to be happy ourselves.
Without relationships, no matter how much wealth, fame, power, prestige and seeming success by the standards and opinions of the world one has, happiness will constantly eluded him.
Half of the harm that is done in this world Is due to people who want to feel important. They don't mean to do harm But the harm does not interest them.
Opposition brings concord. Out of discord comes the fairest harmony.
Fancy with prophetic glance Sees the teeming months advance; The field, the forest, green and gay; The dappled slope, the tedded hay; Sees the reddening orchard blow, The Harvest wave, the vintage flow.
There is an evening twilight of the heart, When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
