Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.
Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.
Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.
Do not let Sunday be taken from you. If your soul has no Sunday, it becomes an orphan.
Time flows in a strange way on Sundays.
You know what Sunday is, it's a day with a lot of potential for naps.
What does Sunday, the day of the Lord, mean for us? It is a day for rest and for family, but first of all a day for Him.
Smile more than you cry, Give more than you take, and Love more than you Hate.
Sundays are a good day to look at the limitless possibilities of the week ahead. The key is to prolong that feeling by not reading the news.
We live but for a short time, we see but very little, and we know almost nothing; so, at least, let's do some dreaming. Have yourself a very good Sunday, my dear readers.
Sunday, the day for the language of leisure.
Sunday is the Lord’s Day. Let us find time to be with him.
Live forgiveness every day rather than just talking about it on Sunday.
Sunday is the core of our civilization, dedicated to thought and reverence.
How can we worship a homeless man on Sunday and ignore one on Monday?
Poetry is truth in its Sunday clothes.
Our prayer cannot be reduced to an hour on Sundays. It is important to have a daily relationship with the Lord.
Sunday, for me, is all about being home with the family with no plans.
Who remembers when we used to rest on Sunday instead of Monday?
No matter how dark it looks, no matter how long it's been, no matter how many people are trying to push you down; if you will stay in faith, God will always take you from Friday to Sunday. He will always complete what He started in you!
You make me smile like the sun, fall out bed, sing like a bird, dizzy in my head. Spin like a record crazy on a sunday night. You make me dance like a fool, forget how to breath, shine like the sun buzz like a bee, just the thought of you can drive me wild. Oh you make me smile.
Most people can't bear to sit in church for an hour on Sundays. How are they supposed to live somewhere very similar to it for eternity?
No pain, no palm; no thorns, no throne; no gall, no glory; no cross, no crown.
The feeling of Sunday is the same everywhere, heavy, melancholy, standing still.
The only reason why we ask other people how their weekend was is so we can tell them about our own weekend.
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