Midday Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
they-were-sleeping-in-the-midday-sun
were-goin-to-get-hi-hi-hi-in-the-midday-sun
left-to-my-own-devices-id-get-up-at-midday-every-day-my-life-catherine-mccormack
nor-pestilence-that-stalks-in-darkness-nor-plague-that-destroys-at-midday-psalm-916
his-is-praise-in-heavens-on-earth-in-evening-when-you-reach-midday-arrum-18
in-morning-like-work-in-midday-give-counsel-in-evening-pray-hesiod
at-midday-o-king-i-saw-in-the-way-a-light-from-heaven-above-the-brightness-of-the-sun-shining-round-about-me-and-them-which-journeyed-with-me
tell-me-you-whom-i-love-where-you-graze-your-flock-where-you-rest-your-sheep-at-midday-why-should-i-be-like-veiled-woman-beside-flocks-your-song-solomon-17
gaza-will-be-abandoned-ashkelon-left-in-ruins-at-midday-ashdod-will-be-emptied-ekron-uprooted-zephaniah-24
but-impressions-which-morning-makes-vanish-with-its-dews-not-even-most-persevering-mortal-can-preserve-memory-its-freshness-to-midday-henry-david-thoreau
there-was-emptiness-about-heart-life-attic-room-women-must-put-off-their-rich-apparel-at-midday-they-must-disrobe-virginia-woolf
like-blind-we-grope-along-wall-feeling-our-way-like-men-without-eyes-at-midday-we-stumble-as-if-it-were-twilight-among-strong-we-are-like-dead-isaiah-5910
on-sundays-im-up-at-five-in-office-by-six-after-show-around-midday-i-flip-switch-its-all-family-our-kids-play-sports-were-running-around
at-twelve-noon-the-natives-swoon-and-no-further-work-is-donebut-mad-dogs-englishmen-go-out-in-midday-sun-noel-coward
midday-passed-they-continued-their-frantic-prophesying-until-time-for-evening-sacrifice-but-there-was-no-response-no-one-answered-no-one-paid-1-kings-1829
there-was-bright-flash-brilliant-white-light-like-midday-summer-sun-reflecting-off-freshly-cleaned-mirror-and-then-it-was-gone-raymond-rice
o-for-lodge-in-garden-cucumbers-o-for-iceberg-two-at-control-o-for-vale-that-at-midday-dew-cumbers-o-for-pleasure-trip-up-to-pole-rossiter-johnson
your-house-sounds-like-train-at-midday-wasps-buzz-saucepans-sing-waterfall-enumerates-deeds-dew-pablo-neruda
let-eyes-burn-slowly-the-tears-will-cease-to-fall-and-vision-becomes-clear-the-sun-midday-finding-way-in-night-veil-omnium-gatherum
the-old-young-have-something-in-common-that-makes-it-right-that-they-should-be-left-alone-together-dawn-sunset-see-stars-shining-in-blue-sky-but-morning-midday-afternoon-do-not-p
awakened-by-oppressive-midday-heat-zach-opened-his-eyes-to-see-small-blue-tan-lizard-doing-what-looked-like-pushups-about-foot-away-from-his-face-pamela-clare
at-midday-you-will-grope-about-like-blind-man-in-dark-you-will-be-unsuccessful-in-everything-you-do-day-after-day-you-will-be-oppressed-robbed-with-deuteronomy-2829
my-misdeeds-are-accidental-happenings-merely-result-having-been-in-wrong-bar-bed-at-wrong-time-say-most-days-between-midday-midnight-jeffrey-bernard
in-midday-sun-bright-light-will-be-barely-noticed-yet-in-darkest-night-even-smallest-light-can-make-enormous-difference-ralph-marston
i-like-to-go-home-early-thats-my-thing-my-idea-pub-crawl-lasts-from-midday-until-5-pm-then-i-can-go-home-play-with-my-kid-have-tea-go-to-bed
i-will-make-their-widows-more-numerous-than-sand-sea-at-midday-i-will-bring-destroyer-against-mothers-their-young-men-suddenly-i-will-bring-down-jeremiah-158
ones-age-should-be-tranquil-as-childhood-should-be-playful-hard-work-at-either-extremity-life-seems-out-place-at-midday-sun-may-burn-men-labor-under-it-but-morning-evening-should
buddhism-teaches-us-not-to-want-things-not-to-avoid-things-not-to-be-upset-by-loss-in-i-ching-theres-hexagram-that-says-be-like-sun-at-midday-view-frederick-lenz
i-wake-up-early-in-morning-walk-for-hour-if-i-have-something-to-write-i-prefer-to-write-in-morning-until-midday-in-afternoon-i-eat-naguib-mahfouz
The heroin flowing through me, I thought about the last time I saw my father alive. He was drunk and overweight in a restaurant in Beverly Hills, and curling into myself on the bed I thought: What if I had done something that day? I had just sat passively in a restaurant booth as the midday light filled the half-empty dining room, pondering a decision. The decision was: should you disarm him? That was the word I remember: disarm. Should you tell him something that might not be the truth but would get the desired reaction? And what was I going to convince him of, even though it was a lie? Did it matter? Whatever it was, it would constitute a new beginning. The immediate line: You're my father and I love you. I remember staring at the white tablecloth as I contemplated saying this. Could I actually do it? I didn't believe it, and it wasn't true, but I wanted it to be. For one moment, as my father ordered another vodka (it was two in the afternoon; this was his fourth) and started ranting about my mother and the slump in California real estate and how 'your sisters' never called him, I realized it could actually happen, and that by saying this I would save him. I suddenly saw a future with my father. But the check came along with the drink and I was knocked out of my reverie by an argument he wanted to start and I simply stood up and walked away from the booth without looking back at him or saying goodbye and then I was standing in sunlight. Loosening my tie as a parking valet pulled up to the curb in the cream-colored 450 SL. I half smiled at the memory, for thinking that I could just let go of the damage that a father can do to a son. I never spoke to him again.

Bret Easton Ellis
the-heroin-flowing-through-me-i-thought-about-last-time-i-saw-my-father-alive-he-was-drunk-overweight-in-restaurant-in-beverly-hills-curling-into-myself-on-bed-i-thought-what-if-
From p. 40 of Signet Edition of Thomas Wolfe's _You Can't Go Home Again_ (1940): Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same. Lean down your ear upon the earth and listen. The voice of forest water in the night, a woman's laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children's voices in bright air-these things will never change. The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring, the sharp and tongueless cry-these things will always be the same. All things belonging to the earth will never change-the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth-all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the earth-these things will always be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever. The tarantula, the adder, and the asp will also never change. Pain and death will always be the same. But under the pavements trembling like a pulse, under the buildings trembling like a cry, under the waste of time, under the hoof of the beast above the broken bones of cities, there will be something growing like a flower, something bursting from the earth again, forever deathless, faithful, coming into life again like April.

Thomas Wolfe
from-p-40-signet-edition-thomas-wolfes-_you-cant-go-home-again_-1940-some-things-will-never-change-some-things-will-always-be-same-lean-down-your-ear-upon-earth-listen-the-voice-
When you are quite well enough to travel, Latimer, I shall take you home with me. The journey will amuse you and do you good, for I shall go through the Tyrol and Austria, and you will see many new places. Our neighbours, the Filmores, are come; Alfred will join us at Basle, and we shall all go together to Vienna, and back by Prague... ' My father was called away before he had finished his sentence, and he left my mind resting on the word Prague with a strange sense that a new and wondrous scene was breaking upon me: a city under the broad sunshine, that seemed to me as if it were summer sunshine of a long-past century arrested in its course-unrefreshed for ages by dews of night, or the rushing rain-cloud; scorching the dusty, weary, time-eaten grandeur of a people doomed to live on in the stale repetition of memories, like deposed and superannuated kings in their regal gold inwoven tatters. The city looked so thirsty that the broad river seemed to me a sheet of metal; and the blackened statues, as I passed under their blank gaze, along the unending bridge, with their ancient garments and their saintly crowns, seemed to me the real inhabitants and owners of this place, while the busy, trivial men and women, hurrying to and fro, were a swarm of ephemeral visitants infesting it for a day. It is such grim, stony beings as these, I thought, who are the fathers of ancient faded children, in those tanned time-fretted dwellings that crowd the steep before me; who pay their court in the worn and crumbling pomp of the palace which stretches its monotonous length on the height; who worship wearily in the stifling air of the churches, urged by no fear or hope, but compelled by their doom to be ever old and undying, to live on in the rigidity of habit, as they live on in perpetual midday, without the repose of night or the new birth of morning. A stunning clang of metal suddenly thrilled through me, and I became conscious of the objects in my room again: one of the fire-irons had fallen as Pierre opened the door to bring me my draught. My heart was palpitating violently, and I begged Pierre to leave my draught beside me; I would take it presently. ("The Lifted Veil")

George Eliot
when-you-are-quite-well-enough-to-travel-latimer-i-shall-take-you-home-with-me-the-journey-will-amuse-you-do-you-good-for-i-shall-go-through-tyrol-austria-you-will-see-many-new-p
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave a lustre of midday to objects below, When what to my wondering eyes did appear, But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer, With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blixen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky; So up to the housetop the coursers they flew With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too- And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack. His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight- 'Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Clement C. Moore
twas-night-before-christmas-when-all-through-house-not-creature-was-stirring-not-even-mouse-the-stockings-were-hung-by-chimney-with-care-in-hopes-that-st-nicholas-soon-would-be-t
?Earn cash when you save a quote by clicking
EARNED Load...
LEVEL : Load...