Best 2891 quotes in «sweet quotes» category

Egeria! sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting-place so fair As thine ideal breast.

Enjoy how sweet, how thoughtful, how kind I'm being on your birthday. Because tomorrow it's back to the same old crap.

England is, after all, the land where children are beaten, wives and babies bashed, football hooligans crunch, and Miss Whip and Miss Lash ply their trade as nowhere else in the western world.

Enough! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly The hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life With which we're tired, my heart and I .... In this abundant earth no doubt Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were loved, used, - well enough, I think, we've fared, my heart and I.

Equality is truly sweet.

Eugene Peterson's language makes the Bible exciting and strong, sweet, sharp, persuasive, painful, personal, contemporary, kind, and dramatic—and available to every reader of this age.

Even in the midst of compassion we feel within I know not what tart sweet titillation of malicious pleasure in seeing others suffer; children have the same feeling.

Even that crazy lunatic, my aunt the Empress, wa absolutely sweet and charming.

Even to me the issue of "stay small, sweet, quiet, and modest" sounds like an outdated problem, but the truth is that women still run into those demands whenever we find and use our voices.

Even with artists I love, only about a third of their music is what really hits the sweet spot for me.

Ever absent, ever near; Still I see thee, still I hear; Yet I cannot reach thee, dear!

Every bees hony is sweet.

Every house where love abides And friendship is a guest, Is surely home, and home sweet home For there the heart can rest.

Every meal should end with something sweet. Maybe it's jelly on toast at breakfast, or a small piece of chocolate at dinner - but it always helps my brain bring a close to the meal.

Every meal should end with something sweet.

Every New Englander might easily raise all his own breadstuffs in this land of rye and Indian corn, and not depend on distant andfluctuating markets for them. Yet so far are we from simplicity and independence that, in Concord, fresh and sweet meal is rarely sold in the shops, and hominy and corn in a still coarser form are hardly used by any.

Everyone tells me that I have a very sweet face! I'd like to change that. I wish I had a more flexible face!

Every sweet has its sour; every evil its good.

Everyone now, they look back and they're like, "What happened to your sweet image that you used to be?" And I'm like, then when you came out you thought I was too provocative. It's like you can never win. No matter what you do, at the end of the day you can't please everybody, you know. I'm not here to please.

Every person is able to add beauty, whether by growing flowers, or singing, or cooking luscious meals, or raising sweet pets. Every part of life can be art.

Everything desires not like but unlike: for example, the dry desires the moist, the cold the hot, the bitter the sweet, the sharp the blunt, the void the full, the full the void, and so of all other things; for the opposite is the food of the opposite, whereas like receives like receives nothing from like.

Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give.

Every sunny morning is a great fountain; we quaff 'sweet hope' from it.

Everything we do is tinged with the knowledge that this may be the last time that we will do this, and that makes what we're doing incredibly sweet.

Everything seems to me to pass so quickly that we must concentrate on how to die rather than on how to live. How sweet it is to die if one has lived on the Cross with Christ.

Everything is a meaningless struggle against nothing and when people say that the world has become a better place that is a false development-optimism. Nothing exists which ever becomes better. Everything stays the same. Somehow, there is nothing. That is so sad. Nothing to come to. Everything is an illusion. A very sweet illusion.

Every time I hear anyone speak of the Sacred Heart of Jesus or of the Blessed Sacrament I feel an indescribable joy. It is as if a wave of precious memories, sweet affections and joyful hopes swept over my poor person, making me tremble with happiness and filling my soul with tenderness.

Everything you've heard about Canadians apologizing profusely for things they shouldn't be sorry about is absolutely true. It is both sweet, endearing and worrisome at the same time. Having someone apologize for no reason actually makes me feel as though I should apologize for their need to apologize.

Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!

Every year, like a good Catholic, I wait for Christmas. Putting up the lights, decorating the tree, making sweets and then unwrapping gifts on Christmas morning... its a tradition my family has followed since I was very little.

Experience life in all possible ways -- good-bad, bitter-sweet, dark-light, summer-winter. Experience all the dualities. Don't be afraid of experience, because the more experience you have, the more mature you become.

Eyes that displace the neighbor diamond, and outface that sunshine by their own sweet grace.

Faced with the choice between changing one's mind and proving that there is no need to do so, almost everyone gets busy on the proof.

Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold; But friendship is the rose, with sweets in every fold.

Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud; Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.

Fair are the flowers and the children, but their subtle suggestion is fairer; Rarer is the roseburst of dawn, but the secret that clasps it rarer; Sweet the exultance of song, but the strain that precedes it is sweeter And never was poem yet writ, but the meaning outmastered the meter.

Faith's speculations to the worst and hardest, in point of resolution, are sweet.

Farewell has a sweet sound of reluctance. Good-by is short and final, a word with teeth sharp to bite through the string that ties past to the future.

Fate loves best such syllables as are sweet and sonorous on the tongue.

Fairy tales to me are never happy, sweet stories. They're moral stories about overcoming the dark side and the bad.

Father of rosy day, No more thy clouds of incense rise; But waking flow'rs, At morning hours, Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.

Father, may my song today be a sweet sound in Your ears-even if in Yours alone. Amen.

Fathers and mothers are too absorbed in business and housekeeping to study their children, and cherish that sweet and natural confidence which is a child's surest safeguard, and a parent's subtlest power.

Fiftey years isn't too bad. With luck you might see it happen when your a sweet,old granny,dandling big fat babies on your knee. Actully"-he held up a hand,interrupting Kitty's cry of protest-"no,that's wrong. My projection is incorrect." "Good." "You'll never be a sweet old granny. Let's say,'sad,lonely old biddy' instead.

Fear secretes acids; but love and trust are sweet juices.

Few pleasures there are indeed without an aftertouch of pain, but that is the preservation which keeps them sweet.

Find your own 'sweet spot'. Take your talents and enjoy them, share them, expand them.

Finally he closed the distance between us and kissed me - a sweet, gentle kiss that held within it every single one of the thousand days I'd loved him as my everything, long after I'd begun to love him as a friend.

First of all, these lenders are not babies. These are total killers. These are not the nice, sweet little people you think. You're living in a world of make-believe.

Flowers are like the sweet babies of the nature; they make us to smile.