Dew Quotes - Page 11

• Drop Thy still dews of quietness, Till all our strivings cease; Take from our souls the strain and stress, And let our ordered lives confess The beauty of Thy peace.

  John Greenleaf Whittier

  Life, Stress, Soul

  John Greenleaf Whittier (2012). “Poems of Nature, Poems Subjective and Reminiscent and Religious Poems, Complete Volume II., the Works of Whittier”, p.180, tredition

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• Heat lingers
  As days are still long;
  Early mornings are cool
  While autumn is still young.
  Dew on the lotus
  Scatters pure perfume;
  Wind on the bamboos
  Gives off a gentle tinkling.
  I am idle and lonely,
  Lying down all day,
  Sick and decayed;
  No one asks for me;
  Thin dusk before my gates,
  Cassia blossoms inch deep.

  Bai Juyi

  Lonely, Morning, Lying

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• Silver is the best material we have. And silver has this wonderful shine like moonlight ... a light taken straight from a Danish summer's night. When covered by dew, silver can look like magical mist.

  Georg Jensen

  Summer, Taken, Night

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• It is a sultry day; the sun has drunk
  The dew that lay upon the morning grass;
  There is no rustling in the lofty elm
  That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
  Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
  And interrupted murmur of the bee,
  Settling on the sick flowers,
  And then again Instantly on the wing.

  William C. Bryant

  Summer, Morning, Flower

  William Cullen Bryant, “Summer Wind”

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• The breeze and the dew make tranquil the clear dawn;
  Behind the curtain there is one who alone is up betimes.
  The orioles sing and the flowers smile -
  Whose then, after all, is the Spring?

  Li Shangyin

  Spring, Flower, Dawn

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• Although its light is wide and great, the Moon is reflected in a puddle one inch wide. The whole Moon and the entire sky is reflected in one dew drop on the grass.

  Dogen

  Life, Moon, Light

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• Ingratitude is the soul's enemy... Ingratitude is a burning wind that dries up the source of love, the dew of mercy, the streams of grace.

  Bernard of Clairvaux

  Wind, Grace, Soul

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• The ocean can be yours; why should you stop
  Beguiled by dreams of evanescent dew?
  The secrets of the sun are yours, but you
  Content yourself with motes trapped in beams.

  Farid al-Din Attar

  Dream, Ocean, Secret

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• If princes and kings could follow it (Tao), all things would by themselves abide, Heaven and Earth would unite and sweet dew would fall. People would by themselves find harmony, without being commanded.

  Laozi

  Sweet, Kings, Fall

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• Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
  To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green,
  And sweet as Flora. Take no care
  For jewels for your gown or hair
  Fear not; the leaves will strew
  Gems in abundance upon you
  Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
  Against you come, some orient pearls unwept.
  Come, and receive them while the light
  Hangs on the dew-locks of the night
  And Titan on the eastern hill
  Retires himself, or else stands still
  Till you come forth! Wash, dress, be brief in praying
  Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.

  Robert Herrick

  Sweet, Spring, Night

  Robert Herrick (1852). “Hesperides; or, Works both human and divine”

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• For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see,
  Saw the vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be;
  Saw the heavens fill with commerce, Argosies of magic sails,
  Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;
  Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd a ghastly dew,
  From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue.

  Alfred the Great

  Rain, Twilight, Eye

  "Locksley Hall" l. 123 (1842)

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• The seeds of freedom . . . have now been scattered where despotism and tyranny ranked and ruled, will be watered by the enlivening dews of God's clemency, till the reapers abolitionists shall shout the harvest home.

  Henry McNeal Turner

  Home, Harvest, Clemency

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• Humans are animals and like all animals we leave tracks as we walk: signs of passage made in snow, sand, mud, grass, dew, earth or moss.... We easily forget that we are track-markers, through, because most of our journeys now occur on asphalt and concrete--and these are substances not easily impressed.

  Robert Macfarlane

  Animal, Journey, Snow

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• Jewish prayers are mostly about daily things - the sliver of a new moon, dew on the grass, the bread and the wine.

  Geraldine Brooks

  Prayer, Wine, Moon

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• But that mimosa grove-the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since-until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Girl, Stars, Flames

  Vladimir Nabokov (2012). “Lolita”, p.17, Penguin UK

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• Vic bears you no ill will. He is outside drinking the Dew of the Mountain and will be glad to see you yourself again" Ranulf said to Lucas.

  Claudia Gray

  Drinking, Ill Will, Mountain

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• Do not feed children on a maudlin sentimentalism or dogmatic religion; give them nature. Let their souls drink in all that is pure and sweet. Rear them, if possible, amid pleasant surroundings ... Let nature teach them the lessons of good and proper living, combined with an abundance of well-balanced nourishment. Those children will grow to be the best men and women. Put the best in them by contact with the best outside. They will absorb it as a plant absorbs the sunshine and the dew.

  Luther Burbank

  Sweet, Children, Sunshine

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• A southwest blow on ye and blister you all o'er!' 'The red plague rid you!' 'Toads, beetles, bats, light on you!' 'As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fen drop on you.' 'Strange stuff' 'Thou jesting monkey thou' 'Apes with foreheads villainous low' 'Pied ninny' 'Blind mole...' -The Caliban Curses

  Gary D. Schmidt

  Mother, Blow, Light

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• Your house sounds like a train at midday, the wasps buzz, the saucepans sing, the waterfall enumerates the deeds of the dew . . .

  Pablo Neruda

  House, Sound, Deeds

  Pablo Neruda (2007). “100 Love Sonnets”, p.79, Exile Editions, Ltd.

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• I'm young as morning and fresh as dew. Everybody loves me and so do you.

  Maya Angelou

  Confidence, Morning, Believe In Yourself

  Maya Angelou (2011). “I Shall Not Be Moved: Poems”, p.42, Random House

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• She cried, "Laura," up the garden, "Did you miss me? Come and kiss me. Never mind my bruises, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, Goblin pulp and goblin dew. Eat me, drink me, love me; Laura, make much of me; For your sake I have braved the glen And had to do with goblin merchant men.

  Christina Rossetti

  Kissing, Men, Garden

  Christina Rossetti (2013). “Goblin Market - Illustrated by Arthur Rackham”, p.26, Read Books Ltd

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• The difference between you and her (whom I to you did once prefer) Is clear enough to settle: She like a diamond shone, but you Shine like an early drop of dew Poised on a red rose petal. The dew-drop carries in its eye Mountain and forest, sea and sky, With every change of weather; Contrariwise, a diamond splits The prospect into idle bits That none can piece together.

  Robert Graves

  Eye, Sea, Sky

  Robert Graves (1972). “Poems”, Penguin Books Ltd

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• Like vanishing dew,
  a passing apparition
  or the sudden flash
  of lightning -- already gone --
  thus should one regard one's self.

  Ikkyu

  Self, Lightning, Gone

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• I planted my self in the middle of a great many Glasses full of Dew, tied fast about me, upon which the Sun so violently darted his Rays, that the Heat, which attracted them, as it does the thickest Clouds, carried me up so high, that at length I found my self above the middle Region of the Air.

  Cyrano de Bergerac

  Clouds, Glasses, Air

  Cyrano de Bergerac (2015). “A Voyage to the Moon: Souls Needed for You”, p.13, 谷月社

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• Stories are like spiders, with all they long legs, and stories are like spiderwebs, which man gets himself all tangled up in but which look pretty when you see them under a leaf in the morning dew, and in the elegant way that they connect to one another, each to each.

  Neil Gaiman

  Morning, Men, Tangled

  Neil Gaiman (2009). “Anansi Boys”, p.26, Harper Collins

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