Sweetly Quotes (page 20)
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Farewell sweet earth and northern sky, for ever blest, since here did lieand here with lissom limbs did runbeneath the Moon, beneath the Sun, Lthien Tinvielmore fair than Mortal tongue can tell. Though all to ruin fell the worldand were dissolved and backward hurled; unmade into the old abyss, yet were its making good, for thisthe dusk, the dawn, the earth, the seathat Lthien for a time should be.
J. R. R. Tolkien
Wert thou that just Maid who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,
And cam'st again to visit us once more?
Or wet thou that sweet smiling Youth?
Or any other of the heavenly brood
Let down in cloudy throne to do the world good?
Or wert thou of the golden-winged host,
Who, having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post And after short abode fly back with speed
As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed;
Thereby to set the hearts of men on...
John Milton
It looked like a colour, but also... like a bruise or a secretion, like an oozing-and something else, an odour, for example, it melted into the odour of wet earth, warm, moist wood, into a black odour that spread like varnish over this sensitive wood, in a flavour of chewed, sweet fibre. I did not simply see this black: sight is an abstract invention, a simplified idea, one of man's ideas. That black, amorphous, weakly presence, far surpassed sight, smell and taste. But this richness was lost...
Jean-Paul Sartre
Don't drop him," said Peter's mother to his father. "Don't you dare drop him." She was laughing."I will not," said his father. "I could not." For he is Peter Augustus Duchene, and he will always return to me. Again and again, Peter's father threw him up in the air. Again and again, Peter felt himself suspended in nothingness for a moment, just a moment, and then he was pulled back, returned to the sweetness of the earth and the warmth of his father's waiting arms."See?" said his father to his...
Kate DiCamillo
I bear my testimony that there is no joy to be found in all this world like that of sweet communion with Christ. I would barter all else there is of heaven for that. Indeed, that is heaven. As for the harps of gold and the streets like clear glass and the songs of seraphs and the shouts of the redeemed, one could very well give all these up, counting them as a drop in a bucket, if we might forever live in fellowship and communion with Jesus.
Charles Spurgeon