Quotes About Morning

them. They are the highest reality….The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.

If a conscience is living in a world defined by regrets, then yeah, I've got a conscience. My very first thought every morning is what I've done wrong. That

cuando Gill salió del coche aquella mañana tan fría, consciente de su ausencia definitiva, la invadió la mayor sensación de soledad que recordaba haber tenido nunca.

There's a hazardous sadness to the first sounds of someone else's work in the morning; it's as if stillness experiences pain in being broken. The first minute of the workday reminds you of all the other minutes that a day consists of, and it's never a good thing to think of minutes as individuals. Only after other minutes have joined the naked, lonely first minute does the day become more safely integrated into dayness.

From somewhere, in college, Pip had gotten the idea—her mind was like a balloon with static cling, attracting random ideas as they floated by—that the height of civilization was to spend Sunday morning reading an actual paper copy of the Sunday New York Times at a café. This had become her weekly ritual, and, in truth

There's a hazardous sadness to the first sounds of someone else's work in the morning; it's as if stillness experiences pain in being broken. The first minute of the workday reminds you of all the other minutes that a day consists of, and it's never a good thing to think of minutes as individuals. Only after other minutes have joined the naked, lonely first minute does the day become more safely integrated in its dayness. Patty waited for this to happen before she left the bathroom.

Sometimes I get so excited thinking about my morning coffee," Mr. Söderblad said, "I can't fall asleep at night.

No wonder, I thought, her little routines meant so much to her. She gave me so many insights into my own life but, too, an insight into the lives of people who wake up alone every morning and find the courage to get out of bed and show their face.

The morning's light danced on the spine of the new bridge, which towered like the guts of a cosmic piano. The same light that agitated the picture windows of the gaudy homes tumbled so recklessly into the seams of the Oakland hills. The

This one looks good," said Chong over breakfast the next morning. Benny read out loud from the paper. "'Pit Thrower.' What's that?" "I don't know," Chong said with a mouth full of toast. "I think it has something to do with barbecuing." It didn't.

It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won't be awake for another five hours, but I can't help feeling that we're sharing this clear and beautiful morning.

We were trying to make our lives easier, trying, with all our rules, to make life effortless. But a friction began to arise between Nothing and Something, in the morning the Nothing vase cast a Something shadow, like the memory of someone you've lost, what can you say about that, at night the Nothing light spilled from the guest room spilled under the Nothing door and stained the Something hallway, there's nothing to say.

In the morning, when the nothing vase casts a something shadow, like the memory of someone you've lost, what can you say about that?

He Wrote, Are you OK? I told him, My eyes are crummy. He wrote, But are you OK? I told him, That's a very complicated question. He wrote, That's a very simple answer. I asked, Are you OK? He wrote, Some mornings I wake up feeling grateful.

I got tired, I told him. Not worn out, but worn through. Like one of those wives who wakes up one morning and says I can't bake any more bread.

All happy mornings resemble one another, as do all unhappy mornings, and that's at the bottom of what makes them so deeply unhappy: the feeling that this unhappiness has happened before, that efforts to avoid it will at best reinforce it, and probably even exacerbate it, that the universe is, for whatever inconceivable, unnecessary, and unjust reason, conspiring against the innocent sequence of clothes, breakfast, teeth and egregious cowlicks, backpacks, shoes, jackets, goodbye. Jacob

Am sa-mi fac desteptatorul la sase dimineata. - Sase? am interogat eu. Daca vreti sa stiti de ce am interogat, pai asta e din cauza ca pentru mine sase nu inseamna foarte devreme dimineata, ci foarte intarziat noaptea.

All happy mornings resemble one another, as do all unhappy mornings, and that's at the bottom of what makes them so deeply unhappy: the feeling that this unhappiness has happened before, that efforts to avoid it will at best reinforce it, and probably even exacerbate it, that the universe is, for whatever inconceivable, unnecessary, and unjust reason, conspiring against the innocent sequence of clothes, breakfast, teeth and egregious cowlicks, backpacks, shoes, jackets, goodbye.

The morning sun shone over the bronze blade. There were no more traces of blood left. Would you believe it Ariadne? said Theseus The Minotaur almost didn't defend itself.

Cuando era joven, me atraían los atardeceres, los arrabales y la desdicha; ahora, las mañanas del centro y la serenidad.

Liberado de la necesidad de la mentira, Sabe que hoy va a la muerte, no al olvido, Y que es un rey. La ejecución lo espera; La mañana es atroz y verdadera. No hay temor en su carne.

Al primer vislumbre del amanecer el combate murió, como si fuera obsceno o espectral.

Nadie sabe de qué mañana el mármol es la llave.

El sol de la mañana reverberó en la espada de bronce. Ya no quedaba ni un vestigio de sangre. —¿Lo creerás, Ariadna? —dijo Teseo—. El minotauro apenas se defendió. La casa de Asterión