Quotes
Quotes about Sun
What ever disunites man from God, also disunites man from man.
Nothing is lost yet, nothing broken, and yet the cold blue word is spoken: say goodbye now to the Sun, the days of love and leaves are done.
I don't know what you could say about a day in which you have seen four beautiful sunsets.
I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Those vices [luxury and neglect of decent manners] are vices of men, not of the times. [Lat., Hominum sunt ista [vitia], non temporum.
One by one in many countries they break through the ice of fear.. cups of crocuses .. stand up in caucuses .. East to West from Africa to the Caucusus and state their eternal allegiance to the Creator Sun.
Villain and he be many miles asunder.
Again the violet of our early days Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun, And kindles into fragrance at his blaze.
A blossom of returning light, An April flower of sun and dew; The earth and sky, the day and night Are melted in her depth of blue!
Winds wanders, and dews drip earthward; Rains fall, suns rise and set; Earth whirls, and all but to prosper A poor little violet.
In the approach to virtue there are many steps. [Lat., In virtute sunt multi adscensus.]
I wonder if ever a song was sung but the singer's heart sang sweeter! I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung but the thought surpassed the meter! I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought till the cold stone echoed his ardent thought! Or, if ever a painter with light and shade the dream of his inmost heart portrayed!
At some glad moment was it nature's choice To dower a scrap of sunset with a voice?
Sixteen hours ago an American airplane dropped one bomb on Hiroshima.... The force from which the sun draws its power has been loosed against those who brought war to the Far East.
This is the one hundred and tenth anniversary of the birthday of Washington. We are met to celebrate this day. Washington is the mightiest name on earth--long since mightiest in the cause of civil liberty; still mightiest in moral reformation. On that name an eulogy is expected. It can not be. To add brightness to the sun or glory to the name of Washington is alike impossible. Let none attempt it. In solemn awe pronounce the name and in its naked, deathless splendor leave it shining on.
Not to be avaricious is money; not to be fond of buying is a revenue; but to be content with our own is the greatest and most certain wealth of all. [Lat., Non esse cupidum, pecunia est; non esse emacem, vectigal est; contentum vero suis rebus esse, maximae sunt, certissimaeque divitiae.]
Common sense among men of fortune is rare. [Lat., Rarus enim ferme sunsus communis in illa Fortuna.]
Riches are deservedly despised by a man of honor, because a well-stored chest intercepts the truth. [Lat., Opes invisae merito sunt forti viro, Quia dives arca veram laudem intercipit.]
Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces up, snow is exhilarating; there is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.
The sun also shines on the wicked.
Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, mid bowers and brooks, And, dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men as thou dost pass.
Yet all how beautiful! Pillars of pearl Propping the cliffs above, stalactites bright From the ice roof depending; and beneath, Grottoes and temples with their crystal spires And gleaming columns radiant in the sun.
Every winter, When the great sun has turned his face away, The earth goes down into a vale of grief, And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables, Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay-- Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.
Up rose the wild old winter-king, And shook his beard of snow; "I hear the first young hard-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go! Northward o'er the icy rocks, Northward o'er the sea, My daughter comes with sunny locks: This land's too warm for me!"
Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone (A very plain brown stone will do), That I may call my own; And close at hand is such a one In yonder street that fronts the sun.
