Quotes on Sweet

Hot things, sharp things, sweet things, cold things All rot the teeth, and make them look like old things.

Martin is your best friend, isn't he?' a sweet and well-intentioned girl once said when both of us were present: it was the only time I ever felt awkward about this precious idea, which seemed somehow to risk diminishment if it were uttered aloud.

Who can estimate the real wealth that inheres in a fine character. . . . How base and mean money and huge estates look in comparison. All other things fade before it. Its touch is like magic to win friendship, influence, power. Can you afford to chill, to discourage, to crush out of your life this sweet, sensitive plant, which would flower in your nature and give added glory to your life, for the sake of a few dollars, a little questionable fame?

I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing I had seen in three years. That the sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enough to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again.

And what if thou, sweet May, hast known_x000D_ _x000D_ Mishap by worm and blight;_x000D_ _x000D_ If expectations newly blown_x000D_ _x000D_ Have perished in thy sight;_x000D_ _x000D_ If loves and joys, while up they sprung,_x000D_ _x000D_ Were caught as in a snare;_x000D_ _x000D_ Such is the lot of all the young,_x000D_ _x000D_ However bright and fair.

It is often the case, as all the saints know, that fellowship with the Father and the Son is most vivid and sweet, and Christian joy is greatest, when the cross is heaviest.

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.

Now I felt the long-forgotten urgency of lovemaking, when it seems one's human selves leave, to be replaced by hungry beasts bolting their food. Gone are the civilized beings who talk of manners and journeys and letters; in their places are two bodies straining to give birth to a burst of inhuman pleasure followed by a great, floating nothingness. An explosion of life followed by death - in this we live, and in this we foreshadow our own sweet deaths.

But you were something more than young and sweet And fair, - and the long year remembers you.

When there came a sound that I'd never heard the like of in all my born days. Eh, I won't forget that. The whole air was full of it, loud as thunder but far longer, cool and sweet as music over water but strong enough to shake the woods. And I said to myself, 'If that's not the Horn, call me a rabbit.

When my parents were liberated, four years before I was born, they found that the ordinary world outside the camp had been eradicated. There was no more simple meal, no thing was less than extraordinary: a fork, a mattress, a clean shirt, a book. Not to mention such things that can make one weep: an orange, meat and vegetables, hot water. There was no ordinariness to return to, no refuge from the blinding potency of things, an apple screaming its sweet juice.

The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts _x000D_ _x000D_ Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,_x000D_ _x000D_ And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown _x000D_ _x000D_ An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds_x000D_ _x000D_ Is, as in mockery, set. The spring, the summer,_x000D_ _x000D_ The childing autumn, angry winter, change_x000D_ _x000D_ Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,_x000D_ _x000D_ By their increase, now knows not which is which.

Fear secretes acids; but love and trust are sweet juices.

O, a kiss_x000D_ _x000D_ Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge!_x000D_ _x000D_ Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss I carried from thee, dear, and my true lip_x000D_ _x000D_ Hath virgined it e'er since.

A sap run is the sweet goodbye of winter. It is the fruit of the equal marriage of the sun and frost.

Tis a morning pure and sweet, And a dewy splendour falls On the little flower that clings To the turrets and the walls; 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, And the light and shadow fleet; She is walking in the meadow, And the woodland echo rings; In a moment we shall meet; She is singing in the meadow, And the rivulet at her feet Ripples on in light and shadow To the ballad that she sings.

You might say, 'Can't we have a more human Christianity, without the cross, without Jesus, without stripping ourselves?' In this way we'd become pastry-shop Christians, like a pretty cake and nice sweet things. Pretty, but not true Christians.

So sweet love seemed that April morn. When first we kissed beside the thorn, So strangely sweet, it was not strange We thought that love could never change.

When the virus of restlessness begins to take possession of a wayward man, and the road away from Here seems broad and straight and sweet, the victim must first find himself a good and sufficient reason for going.

What all of us long for in our hearts, at Christmastime and always, is to feel bound together in love with the sweet assurance that it can last forever.

What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty; Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.