John Milton Quotes
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale gessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well attir'd woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears: Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
John Milton
Quotes to Explore
This place is phenomenal. The fans are right on top of the players. You feed off that adrenaline. I really think this environment is a vital part of what's happening here.
Dick Vitale
Truly the universe is full of ghosts, not sheeted churchyard spectres, but the inextinguishable elements of individual life, which having once been, can never die, though they blend and change, and change again for ever.
H. Rider Haggard
I find that most of wake up day, not because we genuinely 'want' to, but because we have to. We have to be somewhere, do something, answer to or take care of someone. But when you shift your intention and create a genuine desire - event enthusiasm - for waking up in the morning, your entire life changes.
Hal Elrod
The proud man is forsaken of God.
Plato
The feeling for what ought and ought not to be grows and dies like a tree, and no fertilizer of any kind will do much good.
Albert Einstein
Every old man that dies is a library that burns.
Amadou Hampate Ba
We went to the basket and didn't get the calls. They went to the basket and got the calls. Down the stretch, they gave us calls then, but in the middle of the game, we didn't get them. ... My third foul, I was like there must be something wrong with the shot clock. I was baffled.
Eddie Charles Jones
Getting tired of sitting, staring at my computer screen, day after day, where everyone is two-dimensional, reduced to an avatar photo, status updates, or maybe some carefully curated vacation photos. There's something exhausting about that after a while. I found myself wanting to hear voices.
Brad Listi
Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale gessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well attir'd woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears: Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
John Milton
