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lonely song world
A thrush, because I'd been wrong, Burst rightly into song In a world not vague, not lonely, Not governed by me only. Richard Wilbur
lonely good-day writing
Writing is such lonely work that I try to keep myself cheered up. If something strikes me as funny in the act of writing, I throw it in just to amuse myself. If I think it's funny I assume a few other people will find it funny, and that seems to me to be a good day's work. William Zinsser
lonely fun writing
Writing wasn't easy and wasn't fun. It was hard and lonely, and the words seldom just flowed.
lonely loneliness destiny
There is a very holy and a very terrible isolation for the conscience of every man who seeks to read the destiny in affairs for others as well as for himself, for a nation as well as for individuals. That privacy no man can intrude upon. That lonely search of the spirit for the right perhaps no man can assist. Woodrow Wilson
lonely loneliness book
Often have I sighed to measure By myself a lonely pleasure,- Sighed to think I read a book, Only read, perhaps, by me. William Wordsworth
lonely nature rivers
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams, wherever nature led.
lonely sleep sky
The silence that is in the starry sky, / The sleep that is among the lonely hills.
lonely nature spring
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills When all at once I saw a crowd A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake beneath the trees Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
lonely silly america
What a lonely and silly thing it is to be an Armenian writer in America. William Saroyan
loneliness mean gay
One of the oldest aches in the bones of humanity is loneliness. I mean it's one of the things that goes way back; loneliness is not good for the world. And so, whoever you are, gay or straight, it is totally normal, natural, and healthy to want somebody to go through life with. It's central to our humanity. Rob Bell
loneliness men suffering
The truly solitary being is not the man who is abandoned by men, but the man who suffers in their midst, who drags his desert through the marketplace and deploys his talents as a smiling leper, a mountebank of the irreparable. Emile M. Cioran
loneliness being-alone doors
When you close your doors, and make darkness within, remember never to say that you are alone, for you are not alone; nay, God is within, and your genius is within. And what need have they of light to see what you are doing? Epictetus
loneliness political world
You come into the world alone and you go out of the world alone yet it seems to me you are more alone while living than even going and coming. Emily Carr
loneliness self hands
I hold my face in my two hands. No, I am not crying. I hold my face in my two hands to keep the loneliness warm - two hands protecting, two hands nourishing, two hands preventing my soul from leaving me in anger. Nhat Hanh
loneliness mirrors
Loneliness is a mirror, and recognizes itself. Jodi Picoult
loneliness diaries journal
Fundamentally, diaries are about loneliness. Kenneth Williams
loneliness space understood
I understood that in this small space of time we had mutually surrendered our loneliness and replaced it with trust. Patti Smith
loneliness being-alone space
The great omission in American life is solitude; not loneliness, for this is an alienation that thrives most in the midst of crowds, but that zone of time and space, free from the outside pressures, which is the incubator of the spirit. Marya Mannes
spring farewell bird
Stay, little cheerful Robin! stay, And at my casement sing, Though it should prove a farewell lay And this our parting spring. * * * * * Then, little Bird, this boon confer, Come, and my requiem sing, Nor fail to be the harbinger Of everlasting spring.
spring passion blood
It feeds and grows on the blood which it sheds. The passions , from which it springs, gain strength and fury from indulgence. William Ellery Channing
spring reading writing
If I'm still wistful about On the Road, I look on the rest of the Kerouac oeuvre--the poems, the poems!--in horror. Read Satori in Paris lately? But if I had never read Jack Kerouac's horrendous poems, I never would have had the guts to write horrendous poems myself. I never would have signed up for Mrs. Safford's poetry class the spring of junior year, which led me to poetry readings, which introduced me to bad red wine, and after that it's all just one big blurry condemned path to journalism and San Francisco. Sarah Vowell
spring fall eye
Stephen kissed me in the spring, Robin in the fall, But Colin only looked at me And never kissed at all. Stephen’s kiss was lost in jest, Robin’s lost in play, But the kiss in Colin’s eyes Haunts me night and day. Sara Teasdale
spring war rain
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pool singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white; Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire; And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done. Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly; And Spring herself when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.
spring moving heart
The spring is fresh and fearless And every leaf is new, The world is brimmed with moonlight, The lilac brimmed with dew. Here in the moving shadows I catch my breath and sing - My heart is fresh and fearless And over-brimmed with spring.
spring april
I could not be so sure of Spring / Save that it sings in me.
spring flower writing
When a poet mentions the spring, we know that the zephyrs are about to whisper, that the groves are to recover their verdure, the linnets to warble forth their notes of love, and the flocks and herds to frisk over vales painted with flowers: yet, who is there so insensible of the beauties of nature, so little delighted with the renovation of the world, as not to feel his heart bound at the mention of the spring? Samuel Johnson
spring winter play
It is a hopeless endeavour to unite the contrarieties of spring and winter; it is unjust to claim the privileges of age, and retain the play-things of childhood.