Quotes About Contrast

By contrast, said Jefferson, the Southerners were "fiery, voluptuary, indolent, unsteady, independent, zealous for their own liberties but trampling on those of others, generous, candid, without attachment or pretensions to any religion but that of the heart.

If your storm has lightning and rainbows — Be glad, be glad.

August thunderstorms are masterpieces of bluster and bombardment. And sometimes August is bone-dry and full of dust, and we would gladly swap the whole of it for one rainy March week end.

Beauty and folly are sisters.

I married a woman who loves to camp, and I am what you would call "indoorsy"... My wife always brings up, "Camping's a tradition in my family." Hey, it was a tradition in everyone's family 'til we came up with the house.

The dog may be wonderful prose, but only the cat is poetry.

Kittens are wide-eyed, soft and sweet. With needles in their jaws and feet.

High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture...

In the country the darkness of night is friendly and familiar, but in a city, with its blaze of lights, it is unnatural, hostile and menacing. It is like a monstrous vulture that hovers, biding its time.

There's nothing sweeter than a cup of bitter coffee.

Herbal tea tastes so much better when it's coffee.

In fact, why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing?

It is an absolute fact that shadows are as much colours as lights are...

I may not be different, but I'm definitely not the same.

In the country the darkness of night is friendly and familiar, but in a city, with its blaze of lights, it is unnatural, hostile and menacing.

Dying ain't pretty. Death is beautiful.

But let not our thoughts be only of happiness. For does not the old Arab proverb — "all sunshine makes a desert" — faithfully remind us that the cloud and the storm are likewise needed for the most complete and satisfactory results?

Although there is much malnutrition in the world, more die in the United States of too much food than of too little.

Spring blossoms are fairy tales, autumn leaves are tragic dramas.

Fire is love and water sorrow.

A sow prefers bran to roses.

The most beautiful roses grow on graves.

The life of Marian Evans had much I never knew — a doom of fruit without the bloom, like the Negra fig...

In the dark, glitter is nothing but sand.