Oars 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
listen-last-time-i-talked-to-you-three-you-were-all-two-oars-short-having-any-oars-i-dont-want-to-hear-it-james-riley
the-oars-game-me-power-but-also-taught-me-humility-barry-s-strauss
never-rest-on-your-oars-as-boss-if-you-do-whole-company-starts-sinking-lee-iacocca
most-people-are-rowing-against-current-life-instead-turning-boat-around-all-they-need-to-do-is-let-go-oars
one-win-is-not-enough-to-rest-on-our-oars-especially-where-there-is-room-opportunity-for-other-wins-successes-bidemi-markmordi
all-who-handle-oars-will-abandon-their-ships-mariners-all-seamen-will-stand-on-shore-ezekiel-2729
just-about-month-from-now-im-set-adrift-with-diploma-for-sail-lots-nerve-for-oars-richard-halliburton
the-lake-my-mind-unbroken-by-oars-heaves-placidly-soon-sinks-into-oily-somnolence-that-will-be-useful-virginia-woolf
mankind-owns-four-things-that-are-no-good-at-sea-rudder-anchor-oars-fear-going-down-antonio-machado
he-saw-disciples-straining-at-oars-because-wind-was-against-them-about-fourth-watch-night-he-went-out-to-them-walking-on-lake-he-was-about-to-mark-648
the-world-is-like-vast-sea-mankind-like-vessel-sailing-on-its-tempestuous-bosom-the-sciences-serve-us-for-oars-oliver-goldsmith
to-hear-faint-sound-oars-in-silence-as-rowboat-comes-slowly-out-then-goes-back-is-truly-worth-all-years-sorrow-that-are-to-come-jack-gilbert
but-oars-alone-can-neer-prevail-to-reach-distant-coast-the-breath-heaven-must-swell-sail-or-all-toil-is-lost-william-cowper
to-hear-faint-sound-oars-in-silence-as-rowboatcomes-slowly-out-then-goes-back-is-truly-worthall-years-sorrow-that-are-to-come-jack-gilbert
the-pleasantst-angling-is-to-see-fish-cut-with-her-golden-oars-silver-stream-and-greedily-devour-treacherous-bait-william-shakespeare
the-night-was-as-dark-by-this-time-as-it-would-be-until-morning-what-light-we-had-seemed-to-come-from-river-than-sky-as-oars-in-their-dipping-struck-at-few-reflected-stars-charle
all-in-golden-afternoon-full-leisurely-we-glide-for-both-our-oars-with-little-skill-by-little-arms-are-plied-while-little-hands-make-vain-pretence-lewis-carroll
stared-me-up-at-moon-gods-daughter-laughed-she-did-at-fat-mans-laws-felt-me-earth-through-three-dollar-shoes-heard-roar-thousand-oars-tim-finn
everything-that-we-want-is-downstream-and-you-dont-have-even-have-to-turn-boat-paddle-downstream-just-let-go-oars-current-will-carry-you-esther-hicks
you-dont-paddle-against-current-you-paddle-with-it-and-if-you-get-good-at-it-you-throw-away-oars
i-heard-word-of-bellied-sailcloth-creak-oars-and-gold-in-eastland-then-i-smelled-a-smell-remembered-salt-spray-and-blackpitched-boats-keel-frans-g-bengtsson
there-lord-will-be-our-mighty-one-it-will-be-like-place-broad-rivers-streams-no-galley-with-oars-will-ride-them-no-mighty-ship-will-sail-them-isaiah-3321
of-oaks-from-bashan-they-made-your-oars-cypress-wood-from-coasts-cyprus-they-made-your-deck-inlaid-with-ivory-ezekiel-276
of-the-oaks-of-bashan-have-they-made-thine-oars-the-company-of-the-ashurites-have-made-thy-benches-of-ivory-brought-out-of-the-isles-of-chittim
A Brief for the Defense Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies are not starving someplace, they are starving somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils. But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants. Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women at the fountain are laughing together between the suffering they have known and the awfulness in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody in the village is very sick. There is laughter every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta, and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay. If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction, we lessen the importance of their deprivation. We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure, but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world. To make injustice the only measure of our attention is to praise the Devil. If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down, we should give thanks that the end had magnitude. We must admit there will be music despite everything. We stand at the prow again of a small ship anchored late at night in the tiny port looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront is three shuttered cafes and one naked light burning. To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth all the years of sorrow that are to come.

Jack Gilbert
a-brief-for-defense-sorrow-everywhere-slaughter-everywhere-if-babies-are-not-starving-someplace-they-are-starving-somewhere-else-with-flies-in-their-nostrils-but-we-enjoy-our-liv
Oh, " he said again and picked up two petals of cherry blossom which he folded together like a sandwich and ate slowly. "Supposing, " he said, staring past her at the wall of the house, "you saw a little man, about as tall as a pencil, with a blue patch in his trousers, halfway up a window curtain, carrying a doll's tea cup-would you say it was a fairy?" "No, " said Arrietty, "I'd say it was my father." "Oh, " said the boy, thinking this out, "does your father have a blue patch on his trousers?" "Not on his best trousers. He does on his borrowing ones." 'Oh, " said the boy again. He seemed to find it a safe sound, as lawyers do. "Are there many people like you?" "No, " said Arrietty. "None. We're all different." "I mean as small as you?" Arrietty laughed. "Oh, don't be silly!" she said. "Surely you don't think there are many people in the world your size?" "There are more my size than yours, " he retorted. "Honestly-" began Arrietty helplessly and laughed again. "Do you really think-I mean, whatever sort of a world would it be? Those great chairs... I've seen them. Fancy if you had to make chairs that size for everyone? And the stuff for their clothes... miles and miles of it... tents of it... and the sewing! And their great houses, reaching up so you can hardly see the ceilings... their great beds... the food they eat... great, smoking mountains of it, huge bogs of stew and soup and stuff." "Don't you eat soup?" asked the boy. "Of course we do, " laughed Arrietty. "My father had an uncle who had a little boat which he rowed round in the stock-pot picking up flotsam and jetsam. He did bottom-fishing too for bits of marrow until the cook got suspicious through finding bent pins in the soup. Once he was nearly shipwrecked on a chunk of submerged shinbone. He lost his oars and the boat sprang a leak but he flung a line over the pot handle and pulled himself alongside the rim. But all that stock-fathoms of it! And the size of the stockpot! I mean, there wouldn't be enough stuff in the world to go round after a bit! That's why my father says it's a good thing they're dying out... just a few, my father says, that's all we need-to keep us. Otherwise, he says, the whole thing gets"-Arrietty hesitated, trying to remember the word-"exaggerated, he says-" "What do you mean, " asked the boy, " 'to keep us'?

Mary Norton
oh-he-said-again-picked-up-two-petals-cherry-blossom-which-he-folded-together-like-sandwich-ate-slowly-supposing-he-said-staring-past-her-at-wall-house-you-saw-little-man-about-a
Soon after the completion of his college course, his whole nature was kindled into one intense and passionate effervescence of romantic passion. His hour came, -the hour that comes only once; his star rose in the horizon, -that star that rises so often in vain, to be remembered only as a thing of dreams; and it rose for him in vain. To drop the figure, -he saw and won the love of a high-minded and beautiful woman, in one of the northern states, and they were affianced. He returned south to make arrangements for their marriage, when, most unexpectedly, his letters were returned to him by mail, with a short note from her guardian, stating to him that ere this reached him the lady would be the wife of another. Stung to madness, he vainly hoped, as many another has done, to fling the whole thing from his heart by one desperate effort. Too proud to supplicate or seek explanation, he threw himself at once into a whirl of fashionable society, and in a fortnight from the time of the fatal letter was the accepted lover of the reigning belle of the season; and as soon as arrangements could be made, he became the husband of a fine figure, a pair of bright dark eyes, and a hundred thousand dollars; and, of course, everybody thought him a happy fellow. The married couple were enjoying their honeymoon, and entertaining a brilliant circle of friends in their splendid villa, near Lake Pontchartrain, when, one day, a letter was brought to him in that well-remembered writing. It was handed to him while he was in full tide of gay and successful conversation, in a whole room-full of company. He turned deadly pale when he saw the writing, but still preserved his composure, and finished the playful warfare of badinage which he was at the moment carrying on with a lady opposite; and, a short time after, was missed from the circle. In his room, alone, he opened and read the letter, now worse than idle and useless to be read. It was from her, giving a long account of a persecution to which she had been exposed by her guardian's family, to lead her to unite herself with their son: and she related how, for a long time, his letters had ceased to arrive; how she had written time and again, till she became weary and doubtful; how her health had failed under her anxieties, and how, at last, she had discovered the whole fraud which had been practised on them both. The letter ended with expressions of hope and thankfulness, and professions of undying affection, which were more bitter than death to the unhappy young man. He wrote to her immediately: I have received yours, -but too late. I believed all I heard. I was desperate. I am married, and all is over. Only forget, -it is all that remains for either of us." And thus ended the whole romance and ideal of life for Augustine St. Clare. But the real remained, -the real, like the flat, bare, oozy tide-mud, when the blue sparkling wave, with all its company of gliding boats and white-winged ships, its music of oars and chiming waters, has gone down, and there it lies, flat, slimy, bare, -exceedingly real. Of course, in a novel, people's hearts break, and they die, and that is the end of it; and in a story this is very convenient. But in real life we do not die when all that makes life bright dies to us.

Harriet Beecher Stowe
soon-after-completion-his-college-course-his-whole-nature-was-kindled-into-one-intense-passionate-effervescence-romantic-passion-his-hour-came-hour-that-comes-only-once-his-star-
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