Quotes
Quotes about Day
The only limit to our realization of tomorrow will be our doubts of today.
Tomorrow do thy worst, I have lived today.
Light tomorrow with today.
Live each day the fullest you can, not guaranteeing there'll be a tomorrow, not dwelling endlessly on yesterday.
You pile up enough tomorrows, and you'll find you've collected a lot of empty yesterdays.
Hope is tomorrow's veneer over today's disappointment.
Too late is tomorrow's life; live for today.
Remember, today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.
The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow.
The man who goes out alone can start today; but he who travels with another must wait till that other is ready.
The marquise has a disagreeable day for her journey.
O that a soldier so glorious, ever victorious in fight, Passed from a daylight of honor into the terrible night; Fell as the mighty archangel, ere the earth glowed in space, fell-- Fell from the patriot's heaven down to the loyalist's hell!
It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it falls and die that night-- It was the plant and flower of Light.
Many have screwed the truth, but few have called her the next day.
Nobody dies nowadays of fatal truths: there are too many antidotes to them.
The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.
Fair Venus shines Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam Propitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood Of softened radiance from her dewy locks.
The summer day is closed, the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west.
Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray.
'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
How lovely are the portals of the night, When stars come out to watch the daylight die.
In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,-- Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest herald of day,-- And to await, with impatience, the gaze of the ruler of heaven.-- Youthful delight, oh, how oft lur'st thou me out in the night.
The gloaming comes, the day is spent, The sun goes out of sight, And painted is the occident With purple sanguine bright.
The west is broken into bars Of orange, gold, and gray; Gone is the sun, come are the stars, And night infolds the day.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green, With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke When round the ruins of their ancient oak The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols closed the busy day.
