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Sweet Quotes

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Sweet Quotes

“Love is such a simple thing when we have only one-and-twenty summers and a sweet girl of seventeen trembles under our glance, as if she were a bud first opening her heart with wondering rapture to the morning. Such young unfurrowed souls roll to meet each other like two velvet peaches that touch softly and are at rest; they mingle as easily as two brooklets that ask for nothing but to entwine themselves and ripple with ever-interlacing curves in the leafiest hiding-places.”

IfsLoveFirstsHeartTwoSoulYoungGirlAsksSimpleLove IsWonderMorningLove YouYouthSweetSummerTwentiesOpeningHidingGlancesCurvesBudSimple ThingsRaptureRippleVelvetSeventeenPeachesHiding PlaceSweet Girl
Book:Adam Bede: Top Novelist Focus
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“The golden line is drawn between winter and summer. Behind all is blackness and darkness and dissolution. Before is hope, and soft airs, and the flowers, and the sweet season of hay; and people will cross the fields, reading or walking with one another; and instead of the rain that soaks death into the heart of green things, will be the rain which they drink with delight; and there will be sleep on the grass at midday, and early rising in the morning, and long moonlight evenings.”

PeopleHeartLongReadingLinesSleepBehindsMorningDarknessAirFieldsSweetFlowerWalkingDrinkSummerSpringRainCrossesSeasonsGreenWinterDelightGoldenEveningGrassRisingMoonlightBlacknessDissolutionHayGreen ThingsRising In The Morning
Author:Leigh Hunt
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“A verse of Scripture in the morning, may become a blessing for all the day. It may sing in the heart as a sweet song, from morning until evening. It may become a liturgy of prayer in which the soul shall voice its deepest needs and hungers-amid toils, struggles, and cares. It may be a guide through perplexing tangles, Gods voice whispering cheer, a comforter breathing peace in sorrow.”

NeedsHeartMaySoulCareSongVoicePrayerMorningStruggleSweetSorrowBlessingHungerGuidesScriptureEveningBreathingCheerVersesToilWhisperingLiturgyComforter
Author:J.R. Miller
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“Otherwise I got out of bed on two strong legs. It might have been otherwise. I ate cereal, sweet milk, ripe, flawless peach. It might have been otherwise. I took the dog uphill to the birch wood. All morning I did the work I love. At noon I lay down with my mate. It might have been otherwise. We ate dinner together at a table with silver candlesticks. It might have been otherwise. I slept in a bed in a room with paintings on the walls, and planned another day just like this day. But one day, I know, it will be otherwise.”

KnowsHas BeensTwoMightTogetherStrongRoomsMorningDogPaintingSweetWallOne DayBedTablesLaysLegsWoodsDinnerSilverThis DayMatesMilkMight Have BeenRipeNoonAnother DayPeachesCerealFlawlessStrong Legs
Book:Otherwise: new and selected poems
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“The rich, sweet smell of the hayricks rose to his chamber window; the hundred perfumes of the little flower-garden beneath scented the air around; the deep-green meadows shone in the morning dew that glistened on every leaf as it trembled in the gentle air: and the birds sang as if every sparkling drop were a fountain of inspiration to them.”

IfsLittlesInspirationNatureMorningRichAirSweetFlowerBirdHundredGardenWindowGreenRoseSmellGentleLeafsFountainPerfumeChamberDewMeadowsSparklingFlower GardenMorning Dew
Book:The posthumous papers of the Pickwick Club
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“I met Shannon Hale through some friends and family. I was interested in her book called Princess Academy, which is just a very sweet, Newbery-nominated fairy tale for young readers. She was like, "Oh, actually I have something else for you." She gave me Austenland. The next morning, I'm sure I called her and I was like, "Let's make this movie." It is so fun. It just felt so girly and great and a great vehicle for the weird Hess comedy.”

BookYoungNextFunFeltMorningComedySweetReaderMetsTalesFairyPrincessVehicleFairy TaleFamily And FriendsAcademyGirlyHaleVery SweetShannon
Author:Jerusha Hess
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“This morning, Tegus welcomed me again with an arm clasp and cheek touch. I wasn't startled this time, and I breathed in at his neck. How can I describe the scent of his skin? He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest and closing my eyes and breathing in his smell?”

EyeMorningImagineSweetArmsSkinsWarmSmellBreathingDryNecksBrownChestsAncestorCheeksScentClosingCinnamonClosing My Eyes
Author:Shannon Hale
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“Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray, Forget your woes and let your troubles lay, And when again it's morning, they'll wash away. Here it's safe, here it's warm, Here the daisies guard you from every harm, Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, Here is the place where I love you.”

DreamForgetMorningTroubleLove YouSweetTomorrowSafeLaysWarmHarmYour DreamsRaysLost LoveFar AwayRomantic LoveWoeMeadowsCloaksDaisiesMoonbeamsTomorrow Brings
Author:Suzanne Collins
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“I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.”

WantSoulPainFallMorningHeardSkyStrangeSweetEternalBlueChaosCloudsYellowAncestorGentlenessFall BackBlue SkyFunny Good MorningMorning Sky
Author:Shannon Hale
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“Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.”

KidsFacesNightFoundLeftEasyBlackFictionMorningGrowingMissingChangedSweetHairBedEarsSickDiedCoffeeChairsLaughedEvery NightCriedEvery MorningWidowsSweatersHaving KidsBlack Coffee
Author:Jonathan Safran Foer
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“For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet. Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.”

IfsMindStillsIdeasSoulMightNightGirlFeltMorningChangedStrangeSweetPossessionStealingMy SoulGentleToneMelancholyEvery MorningSinkingInterruptedUnwelcomeThoughts Of Death
Book:Carmilla: A Critical Edition
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“Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night!”

ShouldHeartNightParentMorningAirSonSweetDespairStriveBoundsCloudsDisappointmentSpellsPreparingPreyCarelessFright
Book:The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats
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“The true Indian sets no price upon either his property or his labor. His generosity is limited only by his strength and ability. He regards it as an honor to be selected for difficult or dangerous service and would think it shameful to ask for any reward, saying rather: "Let the person I serve express his thanks according to his own bringing up and his sense of honor. Each soul must meet the morning sun, the new sweet earth, and the Great Silence alone!. What is Silence? It is the Great Mystery! The Holy Silence is His voice!”

ThinkingPersonsSoulEarthAsksDifficultVoiceAbilitySilenceMorningSunMysteryDangerousSweetHonorHolyLaborRegardPropertyRewardsThanksGenerosityIndianSilence IsShamefulSelectedMorning Sun
Author:Charles Alexander Eastman
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“Tis a morning pure and sweet, And a dewy splendour falls On the little flower that clings To the turrets and the walls; 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, And the light and shadow fleet; She is walking in the meadow, And the woodland echo rings; In a moment we shall meet; She is singing in the meadow, And the rivulet at her feet Ripples on in light and shadow To the ballad that she sings.”

LittlesMomentsLightFallMorningFeetSweetFlowerWallWalkingPureSingingShadowRingsEchoesMeadowsRippleBalladsSplendourLight And ShadowWoodlandTurrets
Book:Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)
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“How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather from some gigantic flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the London cloud-bank. It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than you and I. How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of Nature!”

FeelsLittlesForceNatureMorningSunAirSweetAmbitionRedShiningStriveCloudsFolksDareStrangerLondonFeathersPettyFloatsElementalsForces Of NatureRimsErrandsShine OnFlamingosMorning Air
Book:The Complete Sherlock Holmes
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“Dawn's faint breath breathes with your mouth at the ends of empty streets. Gray light your eyes, sweet drops of dawn on dark hills. Your steps and breath like the wind of dawn smother houses. The city shudders, Stones exhale— you are life, an awakening. Star lost in the light of dawn, trill of the breeze, warmth, breath— the night is done. You are light and morning.”

EndsDoneLightEyeNightHouseLostStarsDarkCitiesStepsMorningStreetsSweetWindMouthsStonesEmptyBreathsBreatheAwakeningHillsDawnGrayWarmthBreezeEmpty StreetsTrill
Author:Cesare Pavese
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