Thoughts Quotes (page 135)
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To whom I owe the leaping delight. That quickens my senses in our wakingtime. And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime, the breathing in unison. Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other. Who think the same thoughts without need of speech, And babble the same speech without need of meaning... No peevish winter wind shall chill. No sullen tropic sun shall wither. The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only. But this dedication is for others to read: These are...
T. S. Eliot
There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look. With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords, I am not prone to weeping, as our sex. Commonly are; the want of which vain dew. Perchance shall dry your pities: but I have. That honourable grief lodged here which burns. Worse than tears drown: beseech you all, my lords, With thoughts so qualified as your charities. Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so. The king's will be perform'd!
William Shakespeare
Finding the real joy of Christmas comes not in the hurrying and the scurrying to get more done, nor is it found in the purchasing of gifts. We find real joy when we make the Savior the focus of the season. We can keep Him in our thoughts and in our lives as we go about the work He would have us perform here on earth. At this time, particularly, let us follow His example as we love and serve our fellowman.
Thomas S. Monson
He seemed grown-up, compared to the boys at school, and although he was not handsome, or even particularly good-looking—there were still some scars on his face from the skin trouble he had when he was younger—his face was agreeable because it was so. . . . What was the word? Kind, perhaps. Or gentle. But strong, too. He was genuinely glad to see all of Sue’s family, and when Sue entered the room and he helped her on with her coat, Jean thought he acted as if her sister was someone precious to...
Beverly Cleary
Midway along the journey of our life. I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path. How hard it is to tell what it was like, this wood of wilderness, savage and stubborn(the thought of it brings back all my old fears), a bitter place! Death could scarce be bitterer. But if I would show the good that came of it. I must talk about things other than the good.
Dante Alighieri
Without his even being aware that it was happening, Paul's face rearranged itself into the expression of sincere concentration he always wore while listening to editors. He thought of this as his Can I Help You, Lady? expression. That was because most editors were like women who drive into service stations and tell the mechanic to fix whatever it is that's making that knocking sound under the hood or going wonk-wonk inside the dashboard, and please have it done an hour ago. A look of sincere...
Stephen King
It was a woman's voice, high and sweet, with a strange music in it like none that he had ever heard and a sadness that he thought might break his heart. Bran squinted, to see her better. It was a girl, but smaller than Arya, her skin dappled like a doe's beneath a cloak of leaves. Her eyes were queer--large and liquid, gold and green, slitted like a cat's eyes. No one has eyes like that. Her hair was a tangle of brown and red and gold, autumn colors, with vines and twigs and withered flowers...
George R. R. Martin
Nothing is simple if your mind is a fetch-and-carry wanderer from sliced perilous outer world to secret safe inner world; if when night comes your thought creeps out like a furred animal concealed in the dark, to find, seize, and kill its food and drag it back to the secret house in the secret world, only to discover that the secret world has disappeared or has so enlarged that it's a public nightmare.
Janet Frame