Morning Quotes - Page 114

I cling to my anger with every ounce of humanity left in my ruined body, but it's no use. It slips away, like a wave from shore. I am pondering this sad fact when I realize the blackness of sleep is circling my head. It's been there awhile, biding it's time and growing closer with each revolution. I give up on rage, which at this point has become a formality, and make a mental note to get angry again in the morning. Then I let myself drift, because there's really no fighting it.

The happiest part of a man's life is what he passes lying awake in bed in the morning.

I had a monumental idea this morning, but I didn't like it.

There's gonna be a general lack of toast in the neighborhood this morning.

One of my big revelations was that nobody cares whether you write your novel or not. They want you to be happy. Your parents want you to have health insurance. Your friends want you to be a good friend. But everyone’s thinking about their own problems and nobody wakes up in the morning thinking, ‘Boy, I sure hope Sam finishes that chapter and gets one step closer to his dream of being a working writer.’ Nobody does that. If you want to write, it has to come from you. If you don’t want to write, that’s great. Go do something else. That was a very liberating moment for me.

Every morning when I awake, the greatest of joys is mine: that of being Salvador Dali.

Your adrenaline starts to go when the market opens in the morning. It's like sports programming.

This entire most beautiful order of good things is going to pass away after its measure has been exhausted; for both morning and evening were made in them.

When a man becomes old, his greed becomes young: sleep grows heavy at the time of morning.

I live in Los Angeles, which is the second most polluted city in the world, and I wake up in the morning to dirt all over my window.

In a still hot morning, the tide went out and didn't come back in. This was not a spectacular event. The sea did not roll up like a scroll, like the sky in Revelations. It quietly withdrew.

In the morning I stand up, scratch a little bit, then I light a candle and I meditate. Every morning. I've been meditating for maybe 20 years. I meditate so I can make choices; so I'm not a sheep all the time. So I can see better than what everyone else is doing.

I do not know who lives here in my chest, or why the smile comes. I am not myself, more the bare green knob of a rose that lost every leaf and petal to the morning wind.

What will our children do in the morning if they do not see us fly?

I was up watching Meet Joe Black at four AM. I was hoping Brad Pitt would die, and he was still alive at seven forty in the morning! I actually felt sorry for once, for critics.

Early risers are conceited in the morning and stupid in the afternoon.

If I'm playing in the morning, I'll get some carbs early: porridge with chopped banana. If I'm playing in the afternoon, I'll start with less carbs and have some eggs and fruit for breakfast, then a light lunch about 90 minutes before I play, so I don't feel sluggish or full.

My doctors told me this morning my blood pressure is down so low that I can start reading the newspapers.

My wife and I just prefer Seattle. It's a beautiful city. Great setting. You open your front door in the morning and the air smells like pine and the sea, as opposed to bus exhaust.

I have morning prayers and a nighttime reflection. I also read the Bible daily.

The only reason I wanted 'Making Toast' as the title is that it is a simple gesture of moving on. Every morning there's the bread and you make the toast and you start the day.

Yeah, I'll pay your cab fare home, you can even use my best cologne, just don't be here in the morning when I wake up.

Whoever has tasted the breath of morning knows that the most invigorating and most delightful hours of then day are commonly spent in bed; though it is the evident intention of nature that we should enjoy and profit by them.

Every morning or afternoon, whenever you want to write, you have to go up and shoot that old bear under your desk between the eyes.

Sit back picture yourself swooping up a shell of purple with foam crests of crystal drops soft nigh they fall unto the sea of morning creep-very-softly mist...and then sort of cascade tinkley-bell like (must I take you by the hand, every so slowly type) and then conglomerate suddenly into a peal of silver vibrant uncomprehendingly, blood singingly, joyously resoundingbells....By my faith if this be insanity, then for the love of God permit me to remain insane.