Emily Dickinson Quotes
Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?
Quotes to Explore
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Nevertheless during these two seasons, Chapman impressed me a lot because he had the faculty to pull himself out of the most critical situations.
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The coming and going of the seasons give us more than the springtimes, summers, autumns, and winters of our lives. It reflects the coming and going of the circumstances of our lives like the glassy surface of a pond that shows our faces radiant with joy or contorted with pain.
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It's not the way I want to move up the tables, ... I want a proper podium and that's what I'll be working hard for, but I'm pretty happy with the season's best placing.
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During the bubble, we got distracted by the prospect of big bucks. Now it's much better balanced.
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Boston has two seasons: August and winter.
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Whoever wishes to investigate medicine should proceed thus: In the first place, consider the seasons of the year and what effect each of them produces.
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Look to the seasons when choosing your cures.
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The prospect of an early death sits differently upon each person. In some it gifts maturity far outweighing their age and experience: calm acceptance blossoms into a beautiful nature and soft countenance. In others, however, it leads to the formation of a tiny ice flint in their heart. Ice that, though at times concealed, never properly melts. Rose, though she would have liked to be one of the former, knew herself deep down to be one of the latter.
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A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway.
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Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.
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And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.
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There is that unpredictability of the seasons that I enjoy. I like the threat of a tornado. I like the threat of four feet of snow.
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There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt - Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait - Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease And Consciousness - is Noon.
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Uncertainty and the prospect of failure can be very scary noises in the shadows. Most people will choose unhappiness over uncertainty.
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I think, as a skater, I started out really strongly, and as I have grown in the public eye, I have had my rough seasons that most people don't get as much attention for.
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For them to have the season that they had, for them to have us on the ropes ... Congrats to the Cavs.
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Birth is the sudden opening of a window, through which you look out upon a stupendous prospect. For what has happened? A miracle. You have exchanged nothing for the possibility of everything.
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Somehow she knew he would take a love affair very seriously indeed. Once that pinpoint focus was engaged, he would throw himself body and soul into the liaison. In the the woman he decided to take as a lover. A shiver ran through her at the thought. To be the object of such ferocious regard was an alluring prospect, but it also gave her pause.
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I made a mistake and I'll work in the season to be better. It's part of life to be a man and don't try to hide something if it's broken.
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NOBODY LIKES a riot except looters and journalists. The Metropolitan Police, being the go-ahead and dynamic modern police service that it is, has any number of contingency plans for dealing with civil disturbance. From farmers with truckloads of manure to suburban anarchists on a weekend break and Saturday jihadists. What I suspect they didn’t have plans for was just over two thousand enraged opera lovers pouring out of the Royal Opera House and going on a mad rampage through Covent Garden.
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Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?
