Dew Quotes - Page 7

• hither,hither, from thy home,airy sprite, i bid thee come! born of roses, fed on dew, charms and potions canst thow brew? bring me here, with elfin speed,the fragment philter witch i need; make it sweet and swift and stong, spirite amserw now my song hither i come, from my airy home, afar silver moon. take magic spell, and use it well. or its powers will vanish soon!

  Louisa May Alcott

  Song, Sweet, Home

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• Be generous in prosperity and thankful in adversity, Be fair in thy judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be a lamp unto those who walk in darkness, and a home to the stranger. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be a breath of life to the body of humankind, a dew to the soil of the human heart, and a fruit upon the tree of humility.

  Bahá'u'lláh

  Home, Heart, Adversity

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• These are the four that are never content: that have never been filled since the dew began- Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the kite, and the hands of the ape, and the eyes of Man.

  Rudyard Kipling

  Eye, Men, Hands

  Rudyard Kipling (2012). “Songs from Books”, p.206, tredition

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• but that mimosa grove - the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since." "this then is my story. i have reread it. it has bits of marrow sticking to it, and blood, and beautiful bright-green flies. at this or that twist of it i feel my slippery self eluding me, gliding into deeper and darker waters than i care to probe.

  Vladimir Nabokov

  Beautiful, Girl, Stars

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• The dew has fallen with a particularly sickening thud this morning.

  Douglas Adams

  Morning, Fallen

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• Certain miracles that I beheld there have haunted my memory ever since: a gray April morning of sirocco, when the almond blossoms, the flaming tulips, the young green of the vines, hung as if painted on the motionless air; a summer night when the roses had an unearthly pallor under a half-eaten moon, whose ghostliness was somehow one with their perfume and with the phosphorescence of dew tipping their petals; a day when the trees stood part submerged in fog, into which leaves dropped slowly, slowly, one after another, and sank out of sight.

  Harrison Gray Otis Dwight

  Summer, Morning, Memories

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• And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

  Pablo Neruda

  Fall, Soul, Pastures

  Pablo Neruda (1990). “Selected Poems”, p.33, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• A grub in filth is dirty, but it changes into a cicada and sips dew in the autumn breeze. Rotting plants have no luster, but they turn into foxfire and glow in the summer moonlight. So we know that purity emerges from impurity, and light is born from darkness.

  Zicheng Hong

  Summer, Dirty, Autumn

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• It is said that some Western steamers can run on a heavy dew, whence we can imagine what a canoe may do.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Running, May, Imagine

  Henry David Thoreau (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Henry David Thoreau (Illustrated)”, p.666, Delphi Classics

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• And I'll dance with you in Vienna, I'll be wearing a river's disguise. The hyacinth wild on my shoulder my mouth on the dew of your thighs. And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook, with the photographs there and the moss. And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty, my cheap violin and my cross.

  Leonard Cohen

  Music, Yield, Rivers

  Song: Take This Waltz, Album: I'm Your Man, 1988

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• YOU are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side,' said the dewdrop to the lake.

  Rabindranath Tagore

  Lakes, Lotuses, Sides

  Rabindranath Tagore, Mohit Kumar Ray (2007). “Poems”, p.406, Atlantic Publishers & Dist

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• You are an ocean in a drop of dew, all the universes in a thin sack of blood. What are these pleasures then, these joys, these worlds that you keep reaching for, hoping they will make you more alive?

  Rumi

  Ocean, Blood, Joy

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• The two circled around the back of the house, making sure that nobody saw them. Once inside, they found Patrick right where they had left him, sitting in front of Mark's computer. The only difference was that he was surrounded by bags of Doritos and cans of Mountain Dew. He looked up at them with wild eyes. You okay?" Courtney asked. I'm fantastic!" Patrick exclaimed. "This sugary drink is incredible!" Swell," Courtney remarked sarcastically. "He's wired on Dew.

  D. J. MacHale

  Eye, Two, Differences

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• But the impressions which the morning makes vanish with its dews, and not even the most "persevering mortal" can preserve the memory of its freshness to midday.

  Henry David Thoreau

  Morning, Memories, Noon

  Henry David Thoreau (2013). “The Essential Thoreau”, p.470, Simon and Schuster

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• I prefer by far the warmth and softness to mere brilliancy and coldness. Some people remind me of sharp dazzling diamonds. Valuable but lifeless and loveless. Others, of the simplest field flowers, with hearts full of dew and with all the tints of celestial beauty reflected in their modest petals.

  Anais Nin

  Love, Flower, Heart

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• The substance of mind is the substance of heaven. A joyful thought is an auspicious star or a felicitous cloud. An angry thought is a thunderstorm or a violent rain. A kind thought is a gentle breeze or a sweet dew. A stern thought is a fierce sun or an autumn frost. Which of these can be eliminated? Just let them pass away as they arise, open and unresisting, and your mind merges with the spacious sky.

  Zicheng Hong

  Sweet, Stars, Rain

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• Stories help me. To live. To work. To find the meaning hidden in every dream, ever leaf, every drop of dew.

  T.A. Barron

  Dream, Stories, Helping

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• Manners are the happy ways of doing things; each one a stroke of genius or of love, now repeated and hardened into usage, they form at last a rich varnish, with which the routine of life is washed, and its details adorned. If they are superficial, so are the dew-drops which give such a depth to the morning meadows.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Morning, Giving, Lasts

  Ralph Waldo Emerson, Barbara L. Packer, Joseph Slater, Douglas Emory Wilson (2003). “The Conduct of Life”, p.90, Harvard University Press

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• No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure. Happiness is a glory shining far down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divine dew which the soul, on certain of its summer mornings, feels dropping upon it from the amaranth bloom and golden fruitage of Paradise.

  Charlotte Bronte

  Summer, Morning, Mean

  "Villette". Book by Charlotte Bronte, Ch. XXII: The Letter, 1853.

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• If you come as softly As wind within the trees You may hear what I hear See what sorrow sees. If you come as lightly As threading dew I will take you gladly Nor ask more of you. You may sit beside me Silent as a breath Only those who stay dead Shall remember death. And if you come I will be silent Nor speak harsh words to you. I will not ask you why, now. Or how, or what you do. We shall sit here, softly Beneath two different years And the rich earth between us Shall drink our tears.

  Audre Lorde

  Years, Wind, Two

  Audre Lorde (2000). “The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde”, p.31, W. W. Norton & Company

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• Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires Now let us sport us while we may, And now, like amorous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour Than languish in his slow-chapped power. Let us roll our strength and all Our sweetness up into one ball And tear our pleasures with rough strife Through the iron gates of life: Thus, while we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run.

  Andrew Marvell

  Sports, Running, Morning

  c.1650-1652 'To His Coy Mistress' (published 1681).

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• The wind blows out, the bubble dies; The spring entomb'd in autumn lies; The dew dries up; the star is shot; The flight is past, and man forgot.

  Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

  Stars, Lying, Spring

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• In every seed to breathe a flower, In every drop of dew To reverence a cloister star Within the distant blue; To wait the promise of the how, Despite the cloud between, Is Faith-the fervid evidence Of loneliness unseen.

  John B. Tabb

  Faith, Stars, Loneliness

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• Her lips are roses over-washed with dew, Or like the purple of Narcissus' flower; No frost their fair, no wind doth waste their power, But by her breath her beauties to renew.

  Robert Greene

  Flower, Wind, Purple

  Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, Ben Jonson (188?). “The poems of Robert Greene, Christopher Marlowe, and Ben Johnson”

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• I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.

  William Shakespeare

  Love, Morning, Rose

  'The Taming Of The Shrew' (1592) act 2, sc. 1, l. 171

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