Compiled by Last modified or updated on July 4, 2012. On life's thin border awhile the Vision stood And bent over earth's pondering forehead curve. I am the soft starts that shine at night. Wrinkles and features grew into the mountain. Dawn is coming, gently and full of prayer. For Dawn Summers, for themselves and each other, for every sibling who got tossed into a situation beyond her control.
Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light. Thank You, - Jonathan Lockwood Huie Sign-up for your free subscription to my Daily Inspiration - Daily Quote email. My body requires no attention. It should be a place where each of us can find the satisfaciton and warmth which comes from being a member of the community of man. It should be a place where each individual's dignity and self-respect is strengthened by the respect and affection of his neighbors. They're cheering through their fangs. They drink coffee at dawn, beer after work.
Your E-Mail Address: Your Name: To confirm your subscription, you must click on a link in the email being sent to you. Brooks, 1865 I am grateful for the silence of winter mornings, for the beauty and wonder of the glint of sunlight in frost melting to dew, for the early-riser's peaceful solitude that sets a mood of thankfulness, hope, and calm for the dawning day. What better way to start the day than with a success like this? Only that day dawns to which we are awake. I don't think I did that. Whatever the reason, as soon as Megan whistles, the crowd is on its feet. This essential consciousness needs no body for its travels. We will see it when we believe it.
It goes north to the glacial coasts of Greenland, over the horizon to the edge of dawn, ahead to Ireland, England, and the continent of Europe, away through space to the moon and stars, always returning, unwillingly, to the mortal duty of seeing that the limbs and muscles have attended their routine while it was gone. ~Rita Rudner I try to start every morning with a mug of cheer and an over-easy attitude. It's resigned to being left undisturbed. Well, she would have been the paintbrush. ~Author unknown, attributed to Jim Davis Sadness flies on the wings of the morning and out of the heart of darkness comes the light. Birds call to one another.
It was as simple as that. ~William Shakespeare Every morning is a beautiful morning. That was in the past. A dawning which you truly observe, degree by degree. She holds her breath as he slips his hand into hers, leading her away from the top of the hill on which they are standing. Night dew clings to the soil and makes plants glisten. Each email contains an unsubscribe link.
I knew how far below in the swelling heat the birds were an orchestra in the trees about the villages of mud huts; how the long grass was straightening while dangling locks of dewdrops dwindled and dried; how the people were moving out into the fields about the business of herding and hoeing. Always look at a window, and failing that look into the eyes of a man. ~Terri Guillemets How beautiful, buoyant, and glad is morning! The sun is but a morning star. ~George Granville, 1701, via Shakespeare Experience has decided that the early morning air is much more inspiring and vigorous than the evening. You'll eat bugs because I order it. Such thoughts usually occur about four o'clock in the morning.
You're gonna turn for me. Thankful for the sleep that has refreshed me. Wells I was so young, and making movies, going to the studio every morning at dawn was magic. That amazing moment before the chaos of the day starts. The vernal grass fills the whole atmosphere as with a shower of sweetness.
That was in the past. The possibility is always there. I did break 41 world records, but I don't live on that today. I give you this one thought to keep - I am with you still - I do not sleep. They're raising their lighters high. The stout Mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wavewashed his swarthy cheek. May my hands do the good work.
I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. Why, you shall say at break of day, 'Sail on! Is not the atmosphere, like all other substances and tissues, spoiled of its energy by the action of light and heat? ~Ellen Goodman I used to love night best but the older I get the more treasures and hope and joy I find in mornings. I am thankful for being alive this morning. It's so splendid to see the morning coming up over those long hills and glowing through those sharp fir tops. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn.