Quotes About Sunday

believe I lasted three Sundays before my aunt was asked to take me down the street to the Presbyterians.

From top to bottom in congregation after congregation, Sunday fare is milk, not meat. Make that skim milk.

CHAPTER ONE It was a beautiful Sunday evening in mid-March when Hillary Greene turned the corner onto a very familiar part of the Oxford canal. Up ahead, she could just make out the first glimpse of the few rooftops and chimneys that marked the small hamlet of Thrupp, which was less than a mile from Kidlington, in the heart of Oxfordshire's Thames Valley. She throttled down the engine of the Mollern, her narrowboat and home for more

Unless your daily life from Monday to Saturday is a life of worship, there will not be much reality in your public worship on Sunday.

Some people think that going to church on Sunday and owning a dust-covered Bible makes a person a Christian. That is not true. A Christian is one in whom Christ dwells, and the person's life will give evidence of this.

I have been, and will go on, fighting that damnable, dirty, rotten business with all the power at my command.

White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer, who was a commander in the Naval Reserves, tried several times to persuade Mattis to appear on Sunday talk shows on behalf of the administration. The answer was always no. "Sean," Mattis finally said, "I've killed people for a living. If you call me again, I'm going to fucking send you to Afghanistan. Are we clear?

Of all days Sunday was the day for formal afternoon visiting: ladies wore corsets, men wore coats, children wore shoes.

Dr. Finch to observe absently and audibly one Sunday: We asked for bread and they gave us a Stone. [Rev.] Mr. Stone had long been suspected of liberal tendencies.

Nothing really matters on a Sunday," his muffled voice said from under the jacket. "Everybody gets to have a day off from who they actually are. Don't you think? Your crimes don't count, your achievements don't matter. You just have to curl up in your bed and take a lovely siesta. You are both nothing and everything in your dreams." What

Every year NYC hosts one of the world's most famous Easter Parade. Each year attendees and participants show up in their Sunday best and as tradition states, with Easter bonnets in tow.

Eventually, competition and adventure wane, and I enter my ibuprofen phase. Tweaky hamstrings and achy knees restrict mileage, but I continue running for health, sanity, and the ritual of a Sunday trail run with like-minded buddies. We discuss the nagging injuries that bedevil us, and remember the good old days when we were kings.

The dearth of business activity on the traditional day of rest makes Sunday an ideal time to declare insolvency. Bankruptcy petitions are time-stamped to the minute, instantly dividing a failed company's dealings into pre-bankruptcy transactions and post-bankruptcy transactions.

I confess that as a young boy, Sunday was not my favorite day. Grandfather shut down the action. We didn't have any transportation. We couldn't drive the car. He wouldn't even let us start the motor. We couldn't ride the horses, or the steers, or the sheep.

Sunday school don't make you cool forever.

I simply do not subscribe to the hypocrisy of sitting in a church surrounded by an overprivileged Society that sings alleluias on Sunday and practices hedonism the rest of the week.

Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.

Truth does not demand belief. Scientists do not join hands every Sunday, singing, 'Yes, gravity is real! I will have faith!'

That's the problem here. It's Sunday. Everybody wants to go home. Play golf. Sell houses. Watch the ballgame. Nobody cares one way or the other. Just going through the motions.

I love nothing more than being in the last group on Sunday at the Masters. It's the greatest thing in professional golf.

I go to church every Sunday. I've always been a believer. I love singing. I don't have the best voice - I just love getting my emotions out.

I love martial-arts movies. I grew up with my dad watching kung-fu theater every Sunday. So it was kind of my thing.

On the last Sunday of March 1851, the Church of England conducted a national survey to see how many people actually attended church that day. The results were a shock. More than half the people of England and Wales had not gone to church at all, and only 20 percent had gone to an Anglican service.

Sunday school...Bible study...prayer meetings. Now that's just too much church. Ain't nobody so full a sin they need that much church.