Stay keeping my cup full so I'm extra charged like a state tax.
Socrates dies with honor, surrounded by his disciples listening to the most tender words -the easiest death that one could wish to die. Jesus dies in pain, dishonor, mockery, the object of universal cursing - the most horrible death that one could fear. At the receipt of the cup of poison, Socrates blesses him who could not give it to him without tears; Jesus, while suffering the sharpest pains, prays for His most bitter enemies. If Socrates lived and died like a philosopher, Jesus lived and died like a god.
You are so addicted and you have become so habituated that you cannot allow the cup to be empty even for a single moment. The moment you see emptiness anywhere you start filling it. You are so scared of emptiness, you are so afraid.: emptiness appears like death. You will fill it with anything, but you will fill it.
This race is never grateful: from the first, One fills their cup at supper with pure wine, Which back they give at cross-time on a sponge, In bitter vinegar.
Pour away despair and rinse the cup. Eat happiness like bread.
I trust in the Lord God Almighty ... that he will not take away from me the cup of his redemption, but firmly hope to drink from it today in his kingdom.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink, at last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul forth to your Lips to quaff-you shall not shrink.
A cup that is already full cannot have more added to it. In order to receive the further good, we must give of that which we have.
You've got to believe you're going to win, and I believe we'll win the World Cup until the final whistle blows and we're knocked out.
I love coffee, I love tea, I love the Java Jive, and it loves me. Coffee and tea and the Java and me, A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly-and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.
There is a timelessness about sport. Like music and art, it is a quality that cuts across generations and nations. It provides a link between Australians of succeeding generations whether urging on a Donald Bradman or cheering and rejoicing in the America's Cup victory. Call it the spirit, the soul of sport - it will be in 2001 the same as it was in 1901.
The first Tuesday of November, every year it is the same Every Aussie heart is beating with the excitement of the game For they bet on dream or fancy or the forms they've followed up From a dollar up to thousands on the famous Melbourne Cup
Mysticism is not this or that particular cup on the table; it is the water poured into all of them.
The beauty of Cup football is that Jack always has a chance of beating Goliath.
We'll have more football later. Meanwhile, here are the highlights from the Scottish Cup final.
The match will be shown on Match of the Day later this evening and if you don't want to know the result look away now as we show you Tony Adams lifting the cup for Arsenal.
Do you remember when we played in Spain in the Anglo-Italian Cup?
I feel I have grown up. I am a man. It's important in my football too. When everything is good, I don't think you grow up fantastically, I think maybe you need a few problems to grow up. It is good if people in England have started to admire me. I think I have changed a little since the World Cup. I am stronger with my mentality and with my game as well.
Pour out the wine without restraint or stay, Pour not by cups, but by the bellyful, Pour out to all that wull.
A cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying Tiber in 't.
For singing till his heaven fills, 'Tis love of earth that he instills, And ever winging up and up, Our valley is his golden cup, And he the wine which over flows To lift us with him as he goes.
Hail, high Excess especially in wine, To thee in worship do I bend the knee Who preach abstemiousness unto me My skull thy pulpit, as my paunch thy shrine. Precept on precept, aye, and line on line, Could ne'er persuade so sweetly to agree With reason as thy touch, exact and free, Upon my forehead and along my spine. At thy command eschewing pleasure's cup, With the hot grape I warm no more my wit; When on thy stool of penitence I sit I'm quite converted, for I can't get up. Ungrateful he who afterward would falter To make new sacrifices at thine altar!
A full cup of wine at the right time is worth more than all the kingdoms of this earth!
Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
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