Quotes
Quotes about Sunset
'T is the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
Come to the sunset tree!
The day is past and gone;
The woodman's axe lies free,
And the reaper's work is done.
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Into the sunset's turquoise marge
The moon dips, like a pearly barge;
Enchantment sails through magic seas,
To fairyland Hesperides,
Over the hills and away.
What deep and worthy love is so, whether of woman or child, or art or music. Our caresses, our tender words, our still rapture under the influence of autumn sunsets, or pillared vistas, or calm majestic statues, or Beethoven symphonies all bring with them the consciousness that they are mere waves and ripples in an unfathomable ocean of love and beauty; our emotion in its keenest moment passes from expression into silence, our love at its highest flood rushes beyond its object and loses itself in the sense of divine mystery.
This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere: the dew is never all dried at once: a shower is forever falling, vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
Just as old age is creeping on space, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company--the gout or stone.
O, it is pleasant, with a heart at ease, Just after sunset, or by moonlight skies, To make the shifting clouds be what you please, Or let the easily persuaded eyes Own each quaint likeness issuing from the mould Of a friend's fancy.
By unseen hand uplifted in the light Of sunset, yonder solitary cloud Floats, with its white apparel blown abroad, And wafted up to heaven.
Through the magic of motion pictures, someone who's never left Peoria knows the softness of a Paris spring, the color of a Nile sunset, the sorts of vegetation one will find along the upper Amazon and that Big Ben has not yet gone digital.
A little while and I will be gone from among you, when I cannot tell. From no where we came, into nowhere we go. What is life? Itis a flash of a firefly in the night. It is a breath of a buffalo inthe winter time. It is the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before.
The ocean: rocking cradle of the world, sunset stairway to the stars .. only by great masters trod, only written on by God.
Is there anything more beautiful than a beautiful, beautiful flamingo, flying across in front of a beautiful sunset? And he's carrying a beautiful rose in his beak, and also he's carrying a very beautiful painting with his feet. And also, you're drunk.
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset. -Crowfoot.
Money can't buy real friendshipâfriendship must be earned. Money can't buy a clear conscienceâsquare dealing is the price tag. Money can't buy the glow of good healthâright living is the secret. Money can't buy happinessâhappiness is a mental condition and one may be as happy in a cottage as in a mansion. Money can't buy sunsets, songs of wild birds and the music of the wind in the treesâthese are as free as the air we breath. Money can't buy inward peaceâpeace is the result of a constructive philosophy in life. Money can't buy a good characterâgood character is achieved through decent habits of private living and wholesome dealings in our open contacts with our fellow men.
Into the sunset's turquoise marge The moon dips, like a pearly barge; Enchantment sails through magic seas, To fairland Hesperides, Over the hills and away.
Now the sunset breezes shiver, And she's fading down the river, But in England's song forever She's the Fighting Temeraire.
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of exiles.
Up in the heights of the evening skies I see my City of Cities float In sunset's golden and crimson dyes: I look and a great joy clutches my throat! Plateau of roofs by canyons crossed: windows by thousands fire-furled-- O gazing, how the heart is lost in the Deepest City in the World.
The beauteous pansies rise In purple, gold, and blue, With tints of rainbow hue Mocking the sunset skies.
What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.
The Lord has turned all our sunsets into sunrise.
