Quotes About Sunday

Although I understand that all days are equal with 24 hours each, most of us agree that Friday is the longest day of the week and Sunday the shortest!

I believe in the Church and in loyalty to a local church. I am not in favour of that view of the invisible church that makes one invisible at church on Sunday morning.

It used to be called the Lord's Day, now it is the weekend and if we group all holidays on weekends the devil will have scored another move against Sunday worship.

I have a car that I like - an Aston Martin - for Sunday drives in the country.

Sunday has a calming influence on the French motorist.... Tomorrow he will take up the mantle of the kamikaze pilot once again, but today it is Sunday in Provence, and life it to be enjoyed.

The Four-Faced Visitors of…Ezekiel, by Arthur Orton We are told from our Sunday

The part of my plan that made old people uncomfortable, that exposed them for the bigots they were—and on a Sunday!—still appealed to me.

To recall an image of John Calvin, the preacher is someone the church sends to the Bible week by week to dig up part of its treasure and bring it to us in the Sunday sermon. The

Sunday is God's day, and he was committed to honoring it. Just because he was in Paris to compete in the Olympics didn't justify changing his lifelong commitment.

The Cedar Man also began looking familiar, and I recognized him as Willis Weist, who had disappointed my mother; she had observed him going to as many as four white-person church services each Sunday. A confirmed Methodist, she'd finally asked him which one he liked the best, to which he had responded, "Pentecostal." My heartbroken mother asked why. He'd shrugged, "Because they have the best potluck dinners." There

Where do they get parts on a Sunday; Buell Hardware is closed." Her eyes narrowed. "I get them the supplies, Walter. The Lord provides, but I don't think that extends to plumbing parts.

I used to do bell ringing in Benenden church. It was really good fun, actually. My best friend's dad was the local vicar, and so it was expected as her best friend that I would go to church every Sunday with her.

Sunday is like this entertainment scrum for me, because I've only got a day, one day of fun. So I want to have brunch, and I want to see a movie, and I want to watch 'Game of Thrones,' and I'm trying to watch 'The Sopranos' from the beginning, and I want to play four hours of video games. So, it's, like, as regimented as my work life.

En realidad, ningún domingo puede terminar bien, como todo el mundo sabe.

I have always collected my thoughts on Sunday, a habit enforced in my childhood when my father gave up on the church and turned to my own education with an energy that must be called unpleasant.

It is three o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and 105° and the air so thick with smog that the dusty palm trees loom up with a sudden and rather attractive mystery.

hour after church services on Sunday." "No problem," Hannah said, heading off to the

Sunday school don't make you cool forever.

Just because you don't go to church Sunday morning doesn't mean you forfeit your right of having any help or guidance from God.

I no longer went to church as a regular habit, but go I sometimes did, for one Sunday morning I saw these words painted on a board in the porch: 'The congregation are requested to kneel during prayers; the kneelers are afterwards to be hung upon pegs provided for the purpose.

I can remember meeting of a Sunday night Charles Whibley, Kenneth Grahame, author of 'The Golden Age,' Barry Pain, now a well known novelist, R. A. M. Stevenson, art critic and a famous talker, George Wyndham, later on a cabinet minister and Irish chief secretary, and Oscar Wilde, who was some eight years or ten older than the rest.

Every Sunday my dad calls to ask if I went to church. And every Sunday I lie and say: Sorry. Wrong Number.

big sofas for a nap on Sunday afternoon; comfy reading chairs with good light and a view out the window for daydreaming

Sunday had spread all over the city. It looked as if the sun had smacked into the earth and broken into pieces and chunks of wet light were scattered everywhere -- in the streets, on the window panes, on puddles and roofs. I remembered a day long ago when Grandmother had cleaned a big fish. Her forearms were splattered with shiny scales. It was as if she had Sunday in her whole body. When my father got angry, he had Tuesday.