Quotes on Breasts

How fair doth Nature_x000D_ _x000D_ Appear again!_x000D_ _x000D_ How bright the sunbeams!_x000D_ _x000D_ How smiles the plain! _x000D_ _x000D_ The flow'rs are bursting_x000D_ _x000D_ From ev'ry bough,_x000D_ _x000D_ And thousand voices_x000D_ _x000D_ Each bush yields now. _x000D_ _x000D_ And joy and gladness_x000D_ _x000D_ Fill ev'ry breast!_x000D_ _x000D_ Oh earth!-oh sunlight!_x000D_ _x000D_ Oh rapture blest! _x000D_ _x000D_ Oh love! oh loved one!

Ambition drove many men to become false; to have one thought locked in the breast, another ready on the tongue.

There is no better test of a man's work than time, which also reveals the thoughts which lay hidden in his breast.

No one who, like me, conjures up the most evil of those half-tamed demons that inhabit the human breast, and seeks to wrestle with them, can expect to come through the struggle unscathed.

A man renowned for repartee will seldom scruple to make free with friendship's finest feeling, will thrust a dagger at your breast, and say he wounded you in jest, by way of balm for healing.

Modesty seldom resides in a breast that is not enriched with nobler virtues.

Nature [has] implanted in our breasts a love of others, a sense of duty to them, a moral instinct, in short, which prompts us irresistibly to feel and to succor their distresses.

He that has light within his own clear breast May sit in the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.

A universal peace, it is to be feared, is in the catalogue of events, which will never exist but in the imaginations of visionary philosophers, or in the breasts of benevolent enthusiasts.

I had always hoped that the younger generation receiving their early impressions after the flame of liberty had been kindled in every breast . . . would have sympathized with oppression wherever found, and proved their love of liberty beyond their own share of it.

Those who labour in the earth are the chosen people of God, if ever he had a chosen, people, whose breasts he has made his peculiar deposit for substantial and genuine virtue.

Assuredly there is no more lovely worship of God than that for which no image is required, but which springs up in our breast spontaneously when nature speaks to the soul, and the soul speaks to nature face to face.

Happiness itself is sufficient excuse. Beautiful things are right and true; so beautiful actions are those pleasing to the gods. Wise men have an inward sense of what is beautiful, and the highest wisdom is to trust this intuition and be guided by it. The answer to the last appeal of what is right lies within a man's own breast. Trust thyself.

What can my enemies do to me? _x000D_ _x000D_ I have in my breast both my Heaven and my Garden. _x000D_ _x000D_ If I travel they are with me, and they never leave me. _x000D_ _x000D_ Imprisonment for me is a religious retreat [khalwa]. _x000D_ _x000D_ To be slain for me is martyrdom [shahada] _x000D_ _x000D_ And to be exiled from my land is a spiritual journey [siyaha].

Use now and then a little Exercise a quarter of an Hour before Meals, as to swing a Weight, or swing your Arms about with a small Weight in each Hand; to leap, or the like, for that stirs the Muscles of the Breast.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh_x000D_ _x000D_ And love not bound in hearts of flesh_x000D_ _x000D_ No aching breasts would yearn to meet_x000D_ _x000D_ And find their ecstasy complete._x000D_ _x000D_ For who is there that lives and knows_x000D_ _x000D_ The secret powers by which he grows?

Nature that framed us of four elements, warring within our breasts for regiment, doth teach us all to have aspiring minds.

When such as I cast out remorse; So great a sweetness flows into the breast; We must laugh and we must sing, We are blest by everything, Everything we look upon is blessed.

There is a passion for hunting something deeply implanted in the human breast.

Cares that have entered once in the breast, will have whole possession of the rest.

Deep in the cavern of the infant's breast; the father's nature lurks, and lives anew.