Quotes
Quotes about Sin
Rules of conduct which govern men in their relations to one another are being applied in an ever-increasing degree to nations. The battlefield as a place of settlement of disputes is gradually yielding to arbitral courts of justice.
This art of resting the mind and the power of dismissing from it all care and worry is probably one of the secrets of energy in our great men.
Early in my business career I learned the folly of worrying about anything. I have always worked as hard as I could, but when a thing went wrong and could not be righted, I dismissed it from my mind.
How often from the steep Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard Celestial voices to the midnight air, Sole, or responsive each to other's note, Singing their great Creator?
O, how thy worth with manners may I sing When thou art all the better part of me? What can mine own praise to mine own self bring, And what is't but mine own when I praise thee?
But when I breath with the birds, The spirit of wrath becomes the spirit of blessings, And the dead begin from their dark to sing in my sleep.
For a creative writer possession of the "truth" is less important than emotional sincerity.
...your mom calls you up every other day to beg you to get a real job so she can hold her head up at your cousin's upcoming wedding receptionâ you're good with technology, have you ever considered becoming a Xerox machine repairperson?
There is a need to find and sing our own song, to stretch our limbs and shake them in a dance so wild that nothing can roost there, that stirs the yearning for solitary voyage.
There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale, Which to this day stands single, in the midst Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.
Young men are fitter to invent than to judge; fitter for execution than for counsel; and fitter for new projects than for settled business.
Young people are fitter to invent than to judge; fitter for execution than for counsel; and more fit for new projects than for settled business.
But his zeal None seconded, as out of season judged, Or singular and rash.
While the wanton Zephyr sings, And in the vale perfumes his wings.
Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, While proudly rising o'er the azure realm In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm.
And soon Their hushing dances languished to a stand, Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon, All on their drooping stems they sink unfanned.
The balmy zephyrs, silent since her death, Lament the ceasing of a sweeter breath.
