Best 98 quotes in «rhyme quotes» category

Princess, princess, youngest daughter, Open up and let me in! Or else your promise by the water Isn’t worth a rusty pin. Keep your promise, royal daughter, Open up and let me in!

See I woke up to this God-body movement, three eyes wide open to this God-mind blueprint. The dynamic of this climax at the peak of a God-conscious is what I seek. Subliminally, I speak fluent, 10 figure mind, I just do it. Life unravels its turmoils and these pen to paper sessions ease my pain and free my mind as I watch the rain, looking through the souls window for a sign. Take you pass the senses into the sixth, take you into a place of paradise and bliss in all but only a few notice.

Sealing your lips makes your eyes talk Truth creeps beneath your lame feet’s walk Knees stiffen when blood vessels stalk A pounding heart’s lies hard as rock

Shani Chalisa ॥दोहा॥ Doha जय-जय श्री शनिदेव प्रभु, सुनहु विनय महराज। करहुं कृपा हे रवि तनय, राखहु जन की लाज॥ Shani Maharaj, glory to you with sincerity, Listen to my prayers I request humbly, Bestow your grace and protect me fully, Keep respect and honour of your devotees. - 341 -

The Days were a clan that mighta lived long But Ben Day’s head got screwed on wrong That boy craved dark Satan’s power So he killed his family in one nasty hour Little Michelle he strangled in the night Then chopped up Debby: a bloody sight Mother Patty he saved for last Blew off her head with a shotgun blast Baby Libby somehow survived But to live through that ain’t much a life —SCHOOLYARD RHYME, CIRCA 1985

The Buried Bishop’s a gridlocked scrum, an all-you-can-eat of youth: ‘Stephen Hawking and the Dalai Lama, right; they posit a unified truth’; short denim skirts, Gap and Next shirts, Kurt Cobain cardigans, black Levi’s; ‘Did you see that oversexed pig by the loos, undressing me with his eyes?’; that song by the Pogues and Kirsty MacColl booms in my diaphragm and knees; ‘Like, my only charity shop bargains were headlice, scabies, and fleas’; a fug of hairspray, sweat and Lynx, Chanel No. 5, and smoke; well-tended teeth with zero fillings, revealed by the so-so joke — ‘Have you heard the news about Schrodinger’s Cat? It died today; wait — it didn’t, did, didn’t, did…’; high-volume discourse on who’s the best Bond … Sartre, Bart Simpson, Barthes’s myths; ‘Make mine a double’; George Michael’s stubble; ‘Like, music expired with the Smiths’; and futures all starry; fetal think-tankers, judges, and bankers…power and money, like Pooh Bear and honey, stick fast — I don’t knock it, it’s me; and speaking of loins, ‘Has anyone told you you look like Demi Moore from Ghost?’; roses are red and violets are blue, I’ve a surplus of butter and Ness is warm toast.

She's my pride, my winning prize, always a surprise, to look into her eyes, see her free soul, as soap that slips from the grip of control; a stroll through the park on a dark night with stars to spark the sky, heaven with no price tag I realize, love is the same: endless, priceless, full bliss; to have this princess I pinch myself thinking this is a dream, but to my reprise, I can only say I am now, at last, alive.

Some people imagine that rhyme interferes with the rational processes of thought by obliging us to distort what we originally had in mind. But are rational processes so important? In many of us, even in poets, they can be dull and predictable. An interruption, a few detours and unexpected turns, might make a trip with them less routine. The necessity of finding a rhyme may jolt the mind out of its ruts, force it to turn wildly across the fields in some more exhilarating direction. Force it out of the world of reason into the world of mystery, magic, and imagination, in which relationships between sounds may be as exciting as a Great Idea.

That weekend my people brought home a big eared gray scrawny kit. He was so loud and annoying that I did not like him one bit.

The garden was full of sorrow Songbirds and unusual winds whistled a rhyme Clouds caused to appear and cast down darkness For this was the first day the sun didn't shine

True love finds its own ways To spread goodness, always.

Toilet paper unrolled and slithered then wrapped around my tummy. That paper tried to roll me up into an Egyptian mummy.

What is this love that makes me see beauty, and makes every beautiful thing bring you back to me? What is this love that makes me declare 'I love you' even though I uttered it only a moment ago? What is this love that keeps growing even when my chest is sore and it hurts to love you any more? Tell me: How am I to find what this love is when it was the one to find you, me, this verse, and this universe?

Words like wistfully and sublime are penned into prose and rhyme. As night gives way to dawn, life gives way to time

Wherever you go in the next catastrophé Be it sickroom, or prison, or cemet’ry Do not fear that your stay will be solit’ry Countless souls share your fate, you’ll have company!

Witches, he thought. Always rhyming.

Yan, tan, tethera, pethera, pimp, Sethera, lethera, hovera, covera, dik; Yan-a-dik, tan-a-dik, tethera-dik, pethera-dik, bumfit, Yan-a-bumfit, tan-a-bumfit, tethera-bumfit, pethera-bumfit, figgit.

You can get lost in any library, no matter the size. But the more lost you are, the more things you'll find.

You ask me why I don't speak Not a word at will But write so much worth well over a mill' Well I value words like I value kisses A sober one, a closer one penetrates the heart Darling it's how it mends it

And of all glad words of prose or rhyme, The gladdest are Act while there yet is time

Call me the rap assassinator / rhymes rugged and built like Schwarzenegger

When we step in the name of love, we cannot rhyme if we don't have the same RHYTHM, and we cannot have the same rhythm if we are not listening to the same BEAT. It takes someone who understands the rhythm and melody of your "heartbeat" to dance to it.

But those who cannot write, and those who can, All rhyme, and scrawl, and scribble, to a man.

Does anyone know a word that rhymes with shark?

Children seem naturally drawn to poetry - it's some combination of the rhyme, rhythm, and the words themselves.

I can't even make up a rhyme about an umbrella, let alone death and life and eternal peace.

I aint choose to rhyme, Rhyming chose me.

A rhyme doesn't make a song.

I dream of silent verses where the rhyme glides noiseless as an oar.

I don't rhyme right now, but I may ten years from now.

I have always wanted to midcourse-correct (or undermine) in a poem, and let that be the turn. That poem is to do with displacement, with almosts - even the rhymes are intentionally off.

I'm a terrible punster. And I love to rhyme. I just can't help myself.

I mean, when it's time to rhyme rhyme, I can get down for mine.

I'm not just making rhymes and making melodies. I'm expressing my true life force, energy.

I'm more into beats than rhymes.

I never indulge in rhyme or stanza Unless I'm in bed with the influenza.

I'm sure 50 percent of television ads use rhyme

In my song you catch at times Note sweeter far than mine, And in the tangle of my rhymes Can scent the eglantine.

I started doing music when I was thirteen; I actually started writing my first rhymes.

I wish to write such rhymes as shall not suggest a restraint, but contrariwise the wildest freedom.

I was always making up rhymes. But I never thought that poetry would become my life.

I set it off with my own rhyme / cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time

It's very hard to find things that rhyme with North American Free Trade Agreement.

I usually start with a title or maybe a little rhyme or phrase.

I was promised on a time To have reason for my rhyme; From that time unto this season, I received nor rhyme nor reason.

My work is basically images set to my particular voice. It's the way the images rhyme and the rhythm. It's a way of economical storytelling for me.

Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells, From the bells, bells, bells.

Life has shown me all too often that there is no rhyme or reason to the cruelty inflicted upon humanity.

Men don't make passes at crones with big (rhymes with passes).

People don't ask Jay-Z to take his shirt off when he rhymes.