Deep in the meadow, under the willow a bed of grass, a soft green pillow lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes and when again they open, the sun will rise. Hear it's safe, here it's warm hear the daisies guard you from every harm hear your d...
You can judge me all you want, but it's just ridiculous coz we're both part of the same universe. Let's just ride the horses into the meadow and let them roll in the delightful grass.
For a long time the human instinct to understand was thwarted by facile religious explanations, as in ancient Greece in the time of , where there were gods of the sky and the Earth, the thunderstorm, the oceans and the underworld, fire and time and l...
We're comfortable. He knows I love him. He can see it in my eyes, like I can in his. Not everything needs to be as you imagine. Passion can be a calm meadow just as much as a hurricane.
No matter how intently one studies the hundred little dramas of the woods and meadows, one can never learn all the salient facts about any one of them.
The Earth is beautiful, and bright, and kindly, but that is not all. The Earth is also terrible, and dark, and cruel. The rabbit shrieks dying in the green meadows. The mountains clench their great hands full of hidden fire. There are sharks in the s...
I passed under an arch out of that region of slabs and columns, and wandered through the open country; sometimes following the visible road, but sometimes leaving it curiously to tread across meadows where only occasional ruins bespoke the ancient pr...
Listening over and over to the voices through a family of instruments allowed us to recognize and appreciate the dignity and uniqueness of each living thing in the meadow and forest.
The South-wind brings Life, sunshine and desire, And on every mount and meadow Breathes aromatic fire; But over the dead he has no power, The lost, the lost, he cannot restore; And, looking over the hills, I mourn The darling who shall not return.
It is the mind which creates the world around us, and even though we stand side by side in the same meadow, my eyes will never see what is beheld by yours, my heart will never stir to the emotions with which yours is touched.
For it is the mind which creates the world about us, and, even though we stand side by side in the same meadow, my eyes will never see what is beheld by yours, my heart will never stir to the emotions with which yours is touched.
So, without saying anything to the others, it made its way to the farthest corner of the meadow and began to toast an imaginary muffin. That was always the best way to unwind when things got to be too much for it.
You're going to wake up one day, and you're gonna realize he's moved on. He'll quit trying to win you back. And you'll regret it. And if there's anything The Plague taught me, it's that there isn't time for regret anymore.
Ah, in those earliest days of love how naturally the kisses spring into life! So closely, in their profusion, do they crowd together that lovers would find it as hard to count the kisses exchanged in an hour as to count the flowers in a meadow in May...
Who made the law that men should die in meadows? Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes? Who gave it forth that gardens should be boneyards? Who spread the hills with flesh, and blood, and brains? Who made the law?" Leslie Coulson
Easter is… oining in a birdsong, ying an early sunrise, melling yellow daffodils, nbolting windows and doors, kipping through meadows, uddling newborns, oping, believing, eviving spent life, nhaling fresh air, prinkling seeds along furrows, racking...
Our lives are a journey. As we move forward, we will not only figuratively experience the geography of life: the exhilaration of high mountains, the tranquility of calm meadows, the isolation of treacherous canyons, but we will also experience the se...
Get up," I tell myself, "You go and make your dreams a reality. There's no use staying home and whine every time life beats you down. There's a meadow in the deep forest; you just have to keep pushing through.
We can breathe in the sweet scent of a tepid summer’s meadow after the kiss of a warm rain, and in the very same moment we can stand utterly breathless underneath the expanse of untold galaxies that breech the very edges of the universe itself. Suc...
Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green And trees and hills they long have known.
Theoden: Where is the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing? They have passed like rain on the mountain, like wind in the meadow. The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow. How did it come to this?
