Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Quotes to Explore
The Japanese have a strong tendency to suppress their own feelings. That's the Japanese character. They kill their own emotions.
Ichiro Suzuki
If I'm not on tour or in the studio, I'm in nature somewhere, usually some kind of ocean. Playing music has afforded me that. It's not lost on me that it's a tremendous opportunity to be able to spend your life being surrounded by nature.
Eddie Vedder
Pearl Jam
I have to be careful what I eat before going onstage, to avoid an upset stomach.
Samantha Bond
You may not be able to read a doctor's handwriting and prescription, but you'll notice his bills are neatly typewritten.
Earl Wilson
Love can never make you weak, and love is not restricted to opposite sex. I love my parents, I love my animals, and I love my profession.
Randeep Hooda
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world.
Samuel Beckett
I have met many people, and everyone's impression of me is based on my career.
Uday Kiran
There are various, nay, incredible faiths; why should we be alarmed at any of them? What man believes, God believes.
Henry David Thoreau
I ground my faith upon God's word, and not upon the church.
Jane Grey
Once you've got a big feminist and political justification for talking about how you went round to Benedict Cumberbatch's house and did period all over his sofa, then there's no reason not to tell that anecdote in the middle of a dinner party.
Caitlin Moran
A liberdade é a possibilidade do isolamento... Se te é impossível viver só, nasceste escravo.
Fernando Pessoa
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.
Alfred Lord Tennyson