Morning Quotes - Page 145

The shadows in the early morning don't tell much. The shadows rest at that time. So it's useless to gaze very early in the day. Around six in the morning the shadows wake up, and they are best around five in the afternoon. Then they are fully awake.

I wake up every morning and thank God I live in a country where all of this is possible. Where you have the Yankee ingenuity to roll up your sleeves, get a band of people who believe in something and go for it and make it happen. It doesn't happen anywhere else.

It was really like waking up one morning and going, Wow, I enjoy being with this person more than anybody else in my life, and it just turned out to be mutual.

I can't believe that women have got to put on so much in the morning. What time do women wake up? Man, I put a t-shirt and jeans on, and that's it. To see what women have got to go through in the morning, it's more of a respect factor.

It is a writer's greatest pleasure to hear that someone was kept up until the unholy hours of the morning reading one of their books

It's a privilege to serve the poor, to be servants of noble Africans, but I better belong in the rehearsal room or in the studio with my band. That's where I want to be and I still wake up in the morning with melodies in my head.

I bury my mind in my book, the Bible. Every morning it's the first thing that I do. I've been doing it for years and years. So I want to come back here [to Israel] to see the places that I read about every day. It's very important to my faith to feed [my] spirit in Israel.

Down the street the dogs are barking And the day is getting dark. As the night comes in a-falling, The dogs´ll lose their bark And the silent night will shatter From the sounds inside my mind, For I´m one to many mornings And a thousand miles behind. From the crossroads of my doorstep, My eyes they start to fade, As I turn my head back to the room Where my love and I have laid.

I try to appreciate the simple things. I've just been camping with my son and I enjoyed that just as much if not more than a holiday in a posh hotel. I like making a cup of tea and bacon sarnie in the morning.

In my morning time with God, I ask Him to fill all my hollow places with His lavish, unfailing love. This frees me from craving the approval of others and requiring them to fill up my “cup.” Then, if someone takes the time to demonstrate his or her love for me, that's the overflow! I am free to appreciate and enjoy it, but I didn't emotionally require it!

What we have got to do - especially with younger people, especially with people not heavily involved in the political process - is to make sure that every morning, afternoon, and evening, they are seeing the presentation of issues that are relevant to their lives.

Most of all, I miss that feeling when you go to sleep at night and when you wake up in the morning. It's that feeling that everything is all rightin the world. You know, that amazing feeling that you're whole, that you've got everything you want, that you aren't missing anything. Sometimes when I wake up, I get it for just a moment. It lasts a few seconds, but then I remember what happened, and how nothing has been the same since

That which does not kill us has to get up extra early in the morning if it wants to get us next time.

It was such a thrill. I found the roughest, toughest girls who love to party. They study and work all day in the Agricultural world and college and then they party. I met one girl at 3 am and she was so drunk and said 'l have to get up and cut a sheep's throat at 9 am.' I met another who was a wool classer. She said 'I can drink to 4 in the morning and class wool from 6 am. So I wrote Girls Out There about them.

The sound of madness is life. It's waking up in the morning to your alarm clock, your kid crying for you, hearing the sound of the city, it's everything. Madness isn't necessarily a negative thing, it can be a positive thing. You know, hearing them cry for you, if you have children, is a great thing, it's your child.

I get a thick book full of death, destruction, strife, and chaos. That's what I take with my morning tea.

Once upon a time there was a bear and a bee who lived in a wood and were the best of friends. All summer long the bee collected nectar from morning to night while the bear lay on his back basking in the long grass. When winter came the bear realised he had nothing to eat and thought to himself 'I hope that busy little bee will share some of his honey with me.' But the bee was nowhere to be found - he had died of a stress induced coronary disease.

She thought how strange it would be if she ever said 'Hello' to him. One did not greet oneself each morning.

Those who have to face persistent political persecution become highly politicized. Our lives take on a rhythm different from those who, on waking up in the morning, do not need to wonder who might have been arrested during the night and what further acts of blatant injustice might be committed against our people later during the day. Our antennae become highly sensitive to vibrations barely noticed by those whose everyday existence is removed from political struggle.

I have a sort of Christmas-morning sense of the library as a big box full of beautiful books.

Good morning, Dr. Chandra. This is Hal. I am ready for my first lesson.

Infinity has got to become mine so that I can know which way to turn, so that I can know in what direction something like morning is breaking.

I think public service is a calling and you do it as long as the things that brought you into the office can continue getting you up in the morning and as long as there's still work to get done.

The morning woods were utterly new. A strong yellow light pooled beneath the trees; my shadow appeared and vanished on the path, since a third of the trees I walked under were still bare, a third spread a luminous haze wherever they grew, and another third blocked the sun with new, whole leaves. The snakes were out - I saw a bright, smashed one on the path - and the butterflies were vaulting and furling about; the phlox was at its peak, and even the evergreens looked greener, newly created and washed.

Skin was earth; it was soil. I could see, even on my own skin, the joined trapezoids of dust specks God had wetted and stuck with his spit the morning he made Adam from dirt. Now, all these generations later, we people could still see on our skin the inherited prints of the dust specks of Eden.