Quotes About River

Time is a river of passing events and we are the fish searching for an ocean.

All these souls, after they have passed away a thousand years, are summoned by the divine ones in great array, to the lethean river. . .In this way they become forgetful of the former earthlife, and re-visit the vaulted realms of the world, willing to return again into living bodies.

There are other dogs who need help. Rescue is like a river; it has to keep flowing. Otherwise even more dogs would die.

As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: 'Love has no ending. 'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you Till China and Africa meet, And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky.

Far from his illness The wolves ran on through the evergreen forests, The peasant river was untempted by the fashionable quays; By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems.

To The Hand" What the eye sees is a dream of sight what it wakes to is a dream of sight and in the dream for every real lock there is only one real key and it's in some other dream now invisible it's the key to the one real door it opens the water and the sky both at once it's already in the downward river with my hand on it my real hand and I am saying to the hand turn open the river

now there is only the river that was always on its own way

I kneel on the planks for her blessing, and then sit beside her with my feet dangling over the edge and my own reflection looking up at me as if I were a water goddess living under the river, waiting to be released from an enchantment, and not a spinster princess that nobody wants.

The moonlight on the water outside the chamber window throws the reflection of ripples onto the whitewashed ceiling of the room, so they look as if they are underwater, floating with Melusina in the fountain. But I know that they are both gone from me, and our water mother is singing them on their journey down the sweet river to the deep springs of home.

Yielding flesh in his hands, hot with fear, sticky with sweat and blood and already smelling of heaven. Helpless bones his to crack, helpless skin his to rip open, sweet red river his to drink from. He had to do it. He had to know. With his eyes and his hands, with all his body, he had to see.

When my time is up, I want to cross a River Styx of pure root beer. - Jilly Page 30

To know grief, we must be in the river of time, because grief thrives in the present and promises to be with us in the future until the end point. Only time conquers time and its burdens. There is no grief before or after time, which is all the consolation we should need.

The first people settled there along the Santa Cruz River about twelve thousand years

rose from the plain before them, peaceful and solid—very solid—in the autumn sun. The day was warm and beautiful, and the air was alive with the rich, earthy smells of the river and forest. He'd never seen such a forest. The trees that edged the plain and grew all along the banks of the St. Lawrence grew impenetrably thick, now blazing with gold and crimson. Seen against the darkness of the water and the impossible deep blue of the vast October sky, the whole

puente romano, mezclado entre la gente con un gran capazo de esparto en sus manos, tras una talanquera construida por el cabildo para obligar a los toros a que girasen y continuasen su carrera por la ribera del río, en cuyo margen se amontonaban los vecinos que, en caso de apuro, sólo podrían lanzarse al agua.

We reached the big rock fortress of Amasya; the slender charm of minarets came into view; and we halted by the wooden bridge on the YeÅŸil Irmak, a river that flows through the center of the city.

We've had such a December— Mixing bullets and wings. Do we have to know Why the river turns black?

And if you care to hearThe "Swanee River"Played in ragtime,Come on and hear,Come on and hearAlexander's Ragtime Band.

There was a jolly miller onceLived on the River Dee;He worked and sang from morn till nightNo lark more blithe than he.

Time is a pendulum. Not a river. More akin to what goes around comes around.

That's how it is: everything women have been told about love has been wrong. They've been told all sorts of things, but all wrong. And their experiences, all imprecise. And yet, they trust the things they're told, not the experiences. [...] And yet, it's easier for women. Life flows in them, a great river, in them, the perpetuators, nature is sure and mysterious, in them.

POLO: Everything I see and do assumes meaning in a mental space where the same calm reigns as here, the same penumbra, the same silence streaked by the rustling of learn. At the moment when I concentrate and reflect, I find myself again, always, in this garden, at this hour of the evening, in your august presence, though I continue, without a moment's pause, moving up a river green with crocodiles or counting the barrels of salted fish being lowered into the hold.

I look through the spaces between the iron steps at the colorless flow of the river down below, transporting chunks of ice like white clouds. In a distress that lasts an instant, I seem to be feeling what she feels: that every void continues in the void, every gap, even a short one opens another gap, every chasm empties into the infinite abyss.

and the emptied sky gaped like an abyss where, at the bottom, the stars had begun multiplying, and the night poured a river of emptiness over me, drowned me in dizziness and alarm.