Warm Quotes - Page 19

• She is my first, great love. She was a wonderful, rare woman - you do not know; as strong, and steadfast, and generous as the sun. She could be as swift as a white whiplash, and as kind and gentle as warm rain, and as steadfast as the irreducible earth beneath us.

  D. H. Lawrence

  Mom, Mother, Strong

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• If you have a glass full of liquid you can discourse forever on its qualities, discuss whether it is cold, warm, whether it is really and truly composed of H-2-O, or even mineral water, or saki. Meditation is Drinking it!

  Taisen Deshimaru

  Buddhist, Drinking, Glasses

  "Real Magic : Creating Miracles in Everyday Life" by Wayne W. Dyer, (p. 123), 2001.

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• I would not a bit mind sleeping in the cool grass in summer, and when winter came on sheltering myself by the warm close-thatched rick, or under the penthouse of a great barn, provided I had love in my heart.

  Oscar Wilde

  Summer, Home, Heart

  Oscar Wilde (1961). “DE PROFUNDIS”, p.10, VICTORIA INSTITUTIONS

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• To keep the fire burning brightly there's one easy rule: Keep the two logs together, near enough to keep each other warm and far enough apart - about a finger's breadth - for breathing room. Good fire, good marriage, same rule.

  Marnie Reed Crowell

  Love, Marriage, Fire

  Marnie Reed Crowell (1973). “Greener pastures”

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• In every grave on earth's green sward is a tiny seed of the resurrection life of Jesus Christ, and that seed cannot perish. It will germinate when the warm south wind of Christ's return brings back the spring-tide to this cold sin-cursed earth of ours; and then they that are in their graves, and we who shall lie down in ours, will feel in our mortal bodies the power of His resurrection, and will come forth to life immortal.

  David McMurtrie Gregg

  Jesus, Easter, Lying

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• The naked earth is warm with Spring,
  And with green grass and bursting trees
  Leans to the sun's kiss glorying,
  And quivers in the sunny breeze.

  Julian Grenfell

  Spring, Kissing, Tree

  The Times 28 May 1915 "Into Battle"

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• The last fling of winter is over ... The earth, the soil itself, has a dreaming quality about it. It is warm now to the touch; it has come alive; it hides secrets that in a moment, in a little while, it will tell.

  Donald C. Peattie

  Dream, Spring, Winter

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• Let me arise and open the gate,
  to breathe the wild warm air of the heath,
  And to let in Love, and to let out Hate,
  And anger at living and scorn of Fate,
  To let in Life, and to let out Death.

  Violet Fane

  Life, Death, Gratitude

  Violet Fane (1880). “Collected Verses”

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• Cold prayers shall never have any warm answers. God will suit His returns to our requests. Lifeless, services shall have lifeless answers. When men are dull, God will be dumb.

  Thomas Brooks

  Prayer, Men, Dumb

  Thomas Brooks “Heaven On Earth”, Lulu.com

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• Some nights, one wants to tell beloveds everything that's been waiting to be said. Some nights, a man needs flesh and blood and warm breath and a loving heart.

  Janet Morris

  Love, Loneliness, Heart

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• It was a pleasant cafe, warm and clean and friendly, and I hung up my old water-proof on the coat rack to dry and put my worn and weathered felt hat on the rack above the bench and ordered a cafe au lait. The waiter brought it and I took out a notebook from the pocket of the coat and a pencil and started to write.

  Ernest Hemingway

  Notebook, Coffee, Writing

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• On Saturday mornings I would walk to the Flavor Cup or Puerto Rico Importing coffee store to get my coffee. Often it was freshly roasted and the beans were still warm. Coffee was my nectar and my ambrosia: I was very careful about it. I decanted my beans into glass...and I ground them in little batches in my grinder.

  Laurie Colwin

  Morning, Coffee, Glasses

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• God, if ever I have come close to wanting to commit suicide, it is now, with the groggy sleepless blood dragging through my veins, and the air thick and gray with rain ... I fell into bed again this morning, begging for sleep, withdrawing into the dark, warm, fetid escape from action, from responsibility. No good.

  Sylvia Plath

  Suicide, Morning, Rain

  Sylvia Plath (2007). “The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath”, p.149, Anchor

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• It was Indian summer, a bluebird sort of day as we call it in the north, warm and sunny, without a breath of wind; the water was sky-blue, the shores a bank of solid gold.

  Sigurd F. Olson

  Summer, Fall, Autumn

  Sigurd F. Olson (1969). “Open horizons”, Alfred A. Knopf

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• There is a beautiful spirit breathing now Its mellowed richness on the clustered trees, And, from a beaker full of richest dyes, Pouring new glory on the autumn woods, And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds. Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird, Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer, Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned, And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved, Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down By the wayside a-weary.

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  Beautiful, Summer, Sweet

  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Illustrated)”, p.70, Delphi Classics

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• Something told the wild geese
  It was time to go.
  Though the fields lay golden
  Something whispered, "snow."
  Leaves were green and stirring,
  Berries, luster-glossed,
  But beneath warm feathers
  Something cautioned, "frost."
  All the sagging orchards
  Steamed with amber spice
  But each wild breast stiffened
  At remembered ice.
  Something told the wild geese
  It was time to fly-
  Summer sun was on their wings,
  Winter in their cry.

  Rachel Field

  Summer, Winter, Autumn

  Rachel Field (1934). “Branches Green”

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• The atmosphere was even greater than in Winnipeg last year. The place was almost packed for warm-ups, which was fun for us. You look at the group and you get your salute and you get the standing ovation and that means a lot to us.

  Jennifer Botterill

  Fun, Mean, Hockey

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• I think he knows all my tricks. Or the fact I don't have any tricks - Brendan Shanahan on trying to score against Curtis Joseph. I'm hoping for a bench clearing brawl during the warm up so I can go out and grab his stick.

  Ron Tugnutt

  Hockey, Thinking, Nhl

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• I'm hoping for a bench clearing brawl during the warm up so I can go out and grab his stick.

  Ron Tugnutt

  Hockey, Nhl, Benches

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• Cause I rely on my illusions, to keep me warm at night. I've denied in my capacity to love, and I am willing to give up this fight

  Sarah McLachlan

  Giving Up, Fighting, Night

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• It's that idea that you can have one drink - and no you can't. Within a week I was drinking heavily. It was so quick that even I was like, 'Wow.' Because you have that initial warm feeling going, 'Oh, I remember this'. And your body does, too. And your body goes, 'Yeah, so do I'. Then the demon voice comes, 'Yeah, so do I. You know what would be great? You know we bought a little bottle before? A full bottle would be wonderful'.

  Robin Williams

  Suicide, Drinking, Ideas

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• Joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm and our intelligence aglow.

  Helen Keller

  Morning, Fire, Joy

  Helen Keller (1920). “Out of the Dark: Essays, Lectures, and Addresses on Physical and Social Vision”

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• Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart.

  Kai Knudsen

  Love, I Miss You, Boyfriend

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• I believe, if we take habitual drunkards as a class, their heads and their hearts will bear an advantageous comparison with those of any other class. There seems ever to have been a proneness in the brilliant and warm-blooded to fall into this vice.

  Abraham Lincoln

  Believe, Fall, Drinking

  Abraham Lincoln (1989). “Abraham Lincoln: Speeches & Writings Part 1: 1832-1858: Library of America #45”, p.88, Library of America

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• English Bohemianism is a curiously unluscious fruit. ... Inside this hothouse, huge lascivious orchids slide sensuously up the sweating windows, passion-flowers cross-pollinate in wild heliotrope abandon, lotuses writhe with poppies in the sweet warm beds, kumquats ripen, open and plop flatly to the floor-and outside, in a neat, trimly-hoed kitchen-garden, English bohemians sit in cold orderly rows, like carrots.

  Alan Coren

  Sweet, Flower, Passion

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