Best 85 quotes in «season quotes» category

Black and white, oldest of the vintages, newest of the last season.

At times we wish that these clouds never came our way for all they bring with them is misery but on others they bring relief. It is their absence that is difficult to get by, to fill, for autumn is near. But then seasons do change.

Ah, September! You are the doorway to the season that awakens my soul... but I must confess that I love you only because you are a prelude to my beloved October.

Businesses around the world can only thrive more by making use of Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning in order to make more profit and satisfy their customers’ needs.

Businesses around the world should begin to think of using Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning to run and manage their businesses effectively.

Choose to be at peace with yourself and you will never have any battle to lose. Find yourself every reason and season to share your peace with others!

Christmas is more than rice and chicken, it's all about Jesus Christ and the new life He came to the world to give to mankind.

Don't be in temper, to leave so quickly, that I may be dying. But all too soon, the leaves and debris will gather elsewhere.

But with what wonder has the season come? Its treasure lies in earthen ships, that carry dreams across the foam. And how your memory of Sarah rapes the fleshly heart that once bore scenes, now veiled in smoky stains of tears; it cries as on its crutches leans, and ever fills itself with fears. Be born anew to taste the sky Lay waste cocoon and upwind fly.

do not fast forward into something you’re not ready for or allow yourself to shrink back into what’s comfortable growth lives in the uneasiness the in-between the unfinished sentence you are a season of becoming

Don’t pack out ______________ To some people, you make life bright When you decide to dim your light Their lives will be full of darkness Do shine your light in kindness To some people, you bring out a joy With their emotions, never ever toy With your smiles, grease them with oil And make them glad when their lives boil To other people, you are the warmth That kills coldness and brings strength Don’t do it; don’t pack out Else, they will have blackout You’re on earth to do two things here Wake up and do them now; this year First, dare to grow and become better Second, help others to also become greater Never in any of the four seasons Should you neglect your gifts for any reasons The world needs you to make it a better place Don’t pack out; run your race

Every little or big problem has a reason, Every year there is a winter season, Every trouble goes away with time, After winter spring comes with rhyme.

Every good tree shall bear fruits in the sacred season.

Don't stretch a season out to a lifetime. Know when to let go.

Everyone cannot elevate or even revelate at the same time and/or season; an appointment to elevation can result from being specially chosen...like fruit that is ready, ripe and refined for its pleasurable taste. Even scriptural wisdom documents that "Many are called, few are chosen." Those chosen 'few' may deeply sense that at the core function of elevation is an acension both to and from a higher positioned calling for it...a destiny appointment that will be met without haste...separation has the ability to confirm that elevation has its own appointment...prompted by the foreknowledge of a most SUPER natural selection.

Every season has its own art and the art of autumn is to bewitch the people!

Ha! no more dirges for the dead summer—and here,the shrills of that unpleasant months over, and new leaves start to shiver;as the winter smiled in her foggy bath!

God has individuals He has positioned for His purpose and to be used as His vessel at different time and season.

His tiny toes wiggled as they were ready to go.

Hm. New lives, being buried alive. Life already dead before it can even start. Such a shame!

I am Falling in love again with autumn, The smell of warm cider, The orange color leaves, Pumpkins everywhere and the crisp breeze, People walking or riding their bikes, Folks jogging or going on hikes, I love autumn for so many reasons, I must admit- This is my favorite season

If God want to really help anyone, He will cause him or her to know and understand what vanity is early in life.

Football teams that lost their matches can have many other chances to play in successive seasons; but a soul that is lost through death may not have the chance to justify its potential again!

His small but showy comb seemed to grow in courage with each move he took.

I am Falling in love again with autumn, The smell of warm cider, The orange color leaves, Pumpkins everywhere and the crisp breeze, People walking or riding their bikes, Folks jogging or going on hikes, I love autumn for many reasons and I'm pleased to admit- this is my favorite season

If God would help any man, He will make him know and understand what vanity is early in life.

If you were destined to be a poet, then you won't brainstorm for lines that rhymes. If you were destined to be a celebrity, then you shouldn't start searching for fans. If you are truly a god, then let others worship you!

If you allow coldness to engulf you before winter, season is helpless to help you.

I have a suspicion that when first built, Stonehenge may have glowed blue with St. Elmo's fire during certain times of the year

In summer, you remember yourself; in autumn, you forget yourself!

In the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.

I strongly believe that we need to embrace Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning for maximum growth in our day to day activities in order to excel and succeed.

Love without reason—bloom without season.

If you are enduring a cold season, don't underestimate Christ can plant you right where you are at no matter how dirty, beat up, or worthless you may feel. Rest assured, He has strategically placed you in the precise place on earth for such a time as this.

I love autumn despite the drench weather. I think it symbolises the end of misery and the beginning of glee. It gives hopes that sooner or later, flowers will bloom again, green buds will sprout from trees, and that which is dead will come back alive.

Maturity is when you no longer get the urge to make snow angels in mud season

May, more than any other month of the year, wants us to feel most alive.

Mbegu tunazopanda leo ni mazao ya msimu ujao. Ukipanda mbegu mbaya utavuna mabaya. Ukipanda mbegu nzuri utavuna mazuri. Ukitenda mabaya leo kesho yako itakuwa mbaya. Ukitenda mazuri leo kesho yako itakuwa nzuri. Okoa kesho leo kwa kupanda mbegu nzuri na kuzimwagilia kwa imani na upendo kwa watu. Mungu ataleta mvua, jua na ustawi wa mazao yako. Panda mbegu ya msamaha kwa maadui zako, uvumilivu kwa wapinzani wako, tabasamu kwa marafiki zako, mfano bora kwa watoto wako, uchapakazi kwa kazi zako, uadilifu kwa waajiri wako na kwa wafanyakazi wako pia kama unao, ndoto kwa malengo yako, na uaminifu kwa marafiki zako wa ukweli. Kila mbegu irutubishwe kwa mapenzi huru yasiyokuwa na masharti yoyote, au mapenzi huru yasiyokuwa na unafiki wa aina yoyote ile. Usifiche vipaji vyako. Ukiwa kimya utasahaulika. Usipopiga hatua utarudi nyuma. Usiwe na hasira, wivu au ubinafsi.

Nothing comes as an accomplishment instantly. Success does not come overnight. Patience is the key! Grow up and be the tree; but remember it takes dry and wet seasons to become a fruit bearer, achiever and impact maker!

People who stutter are less diffident or more confident in winter.

Pur essendosi ormai rassegnata a tenere il cappello fermo con la mano destra, con la quale reggeva pure l’ombrellino e una piccola borsa di velluto blu, Miss Portland procedeva spedita, lo sguardo fisso a terra, ormai a pochi metri dal calesse di Maylon. E lo avrebbe superato senza prestare alcuna attenzione, né all’uomo che lo guidava né al cavallo che lo tirava, se l’ottavo conte di Maylon non ne fosse smontato con un salto e non le si fosse parato davanti sbarrandole la strada. «Miss Portland, è un piacere insperato incontrarvi.» Sophie sussultò e sollevando lo sguardo si trovò di fronte quell’uomo. Che nelle ultime due settimane tante volte era riuscita abilmente a evitare. Lo fissò senza nascondere la propria sorpresa e, con un semplice «Lord Maylon» e una frettolosa riverenza, si apprestò a proseguire il proprio cammino. Tentativo sprecato, perché lui, di nuovo, le si parò davanti. Che cosa voleva da lei? «Ho appena fatto visita alla vostra madrina, illudendomi di incontrarvi, Miss Portland. Ma è evidente che non ho avuto questa fortuna. Così, quando vi ho vista, ho sperato che mi avreste fatto l’onore di lasciarvi ricondurre a casa.» La mano ancora sul cappello, il pericoloso ombrellino puntato verso di lui come una lancia in resta, Sophie socchiuse gli occhi come per osservarlo meglio e, senza giri di parole, gli chiese: «Per quale ragione, Lord Maylon, vorreste ricondurmi a casa, quando sono quasi arrivata?» *** Tutte le risposte che vennero alle labbra di sua signoria non avrebbero potuto essere riferite a Sophie senza il ricorso a imbarazzanti spiegazioni. Se le avesse detto che voleva riaccompagnarla a casa per poter rimanere finalmente solo con lei, anche se per pochi minuti, avrebbe dovuto spiegarle anche il perché di quel desiderio. Avrebbe dovuto confessarle che da quando si erano incontrati non faceva che pensare a lei. Con un’intensità fastidiosa e insistente, tanto da non essere più riuscito a guardare né tantomeno a toccare un’altra donna. No, questa spiegazione era fuori luogo, l’avrebbe scandalizzata: era una debuttante, dopo tutto. Avrebbe potuto dirle che voleva respirare il suo profumo, che sapeva di mughetti e viole, gioire del suo sorriso coinvolgente e pericolosamente sensuale, sentirsi circondato dalla vitalità e dal calore che il suo corpo sprigionava, ascoltare la sua voce e perdersi nei suoi occhi. Scartò anche questa ipotesi, ritenendo che tale risposta avrebbe potuto apparire a Miss Portland non solo esagerata ma del tutto sciocca. Quindi, con tono rude e sguardo severo, si limitò a fornirle più che una sola motivazione, un intero elenco di ragioni inappuntabili. «Primo, perché è tardi, Miss Portland, e Lady Rumphill era molto preoccupata che non foste ancora rientrata a casa. Secondo, perché la borsa che portate è talmente pesante che, se non ve ne liberate subito, domani avrete difficoltà a muovere le braccia... a proposito, quando contate di leggere tutti quei libri, Miss Portland?... e, terzo, perché altrimenti finirete col perdere quel delizioso cappello di paglia che a quanto pare non vuole rimanervi sulla testa. Forse perché la vostra testa è talmente dura da scoraggiare anche un cappello. Allora, salite o devo convincervi in altro modo?» «È questo che pensate della mia testa, my lord?» gli rispose lei, le labbra arrotondate in un Oh! oltraggiato. «Questo, e molto altro.» «Non oso davvero chiedervi cosa intendiate per molto altro, ma presumo sia meglio evitare di darvi quest’ulteriore soddisfazione.» E mentre diceva queste parole, docile docile Miss Portland gli permise di aiutarla a salire sul calesse, mentre lui, pur sorpreso dalla resa di lei, ancora sogghignava per quella risposta tagliente. ***

New year, new blessing, new grace and new opportunities, never allow the failures of the past to rub you of the blessings in the new year.

November--with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes--days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines. Days with a high-sprung sky of flawless turquoise. Days when an exquisite melancholy seemed to hang over the landscape and dream about the lake. But days, too, of the wild blackness of great autumn storms, followed by dank, wet, streaming nights when there was witch-laughter in the pines and fitful moans among the mainland trees. What cared they? Old Tom had built his roof well, and his chimney drew.

October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or shutting a book, did not end the tale. Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: "It is simply a matter," he explained to April, "of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content.

Our wings serve as flippers that carry us across the ocean; not in the sky! Why, us penguins have so much fun time in the water, we don't even want to fly!

Perhaps not everything happens for a reason. That is, until you make it so; because for everything there is a season, which can, in fact, become beautiful.

Rivers don’t drink their own waters; trees don’t eat their own fruits. The salt seasons the soup in order to have its purpose fulfilled. Live for others!

She's too beautiful to put in words. To be compared with seasons or stars. She's the universe and not many live life the way she does.

Some things happen for a reason, Others just come with the season.

So when I watch trains, it makes me think about how much movement there is in the world. How every train has dozens of cars and every car has hundreds of parts, and all those parts and cars work day after day. And then there are all these other motions. People are born and die. Seasons change. Rivers flow to the sea. Earth circles the sun and the moon circles Earth. Everything whirring and spinning toward something. And I get to be part of it for a little while, the way I get to watch a train for a minute or two, and then it's gone.