When I am dead, and over me bright April Shakes out her rain drenched hair, Tho you should lean above me broken hearted, I shall not care. For I shall have peace. As leafey trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough. And I shall be more silent and cold hearted Than you are now— Sara Teasdale
Dreamy she's not me tho quotes that are about those eyes tho
Man's Reason is in such deep insolvency to sense,that tho' she guide his highest flight heav'nward, and teach himdignity morals manners and human comfort,she can delicatly and dangerously bedizenthe rioting joys that fringe the sad pathways of Hell.
These eyes, tho' clear To outward view of blemish or of spot, Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Against Heaven's hand or will, not bate a jot Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer Right onward.
I fear a permanent Confederation will never be settled;
tho the most material articles are I think got thro', so as to give great offence to some, but to my Satisfaction.
If the cruelties of slavery could not stop us, the opposition we now face will surely fail. Because the goal of America is freedom, abused and scorned tho' we may be, our destiny is tied up with America's destiny.
Tho' you're tired and weary Still journey on, till you come to your happy abode, Where all you love you've been dreaming of Will be there, at the end of the road.
O Youth! flame earnest, still aspire, With energies immortal! To many a heaven of Desire, Our yearning opes a portal! And tho' Age wearies by the way, And hearts break in the furrow, We'll sow the golden grain Today-- The Harvest comes tomorrow.
Nor must we always be neutral where our neighbors are concerned: for tho' meddling is a fault, helping is a duty.
Poets themselves, tho' liars by profession, always endeavour to give an air of truth to their fictions.
I went home and took my wife and went to my Cosen Tho.
Pepys's and found them just sat down to dinner, which was very good; only the venison pasty was palpable beef, which was not handsome.
Marmee: Oh, Jo. Jo, you have so many extraordinary gifts; how can you expect to lead an ordinary life? You’re ready to go out and – and find a good use for your talent. Tho’ I don’t know what I shall do without my Jo. Go, and embrace your liberty. And see what wonderful things come of it.
Good native Taste, tho' rude, is seldom wrong, Be it in music, painting, or in song: But this, as well as other faculties, Improves with age and ripens by degrees.
Observe this, that tho a woman swear, forswear, lie, dissemble, back-bite, be proud, vain, malicious, anything, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a maxim.
What would it profit thee to be the first Of echoes, tho thy tongue should live forever, A thing that answers, but hath not a thought As lasting but as senseless as a stone.
Keep right on to the end of the road, Keep right on to the end.
Tho'the way be long let your heart be strong, Keep right on round the bend. Tho' you're tired and weary Still journey on, till you come to your happy abode, Where all you love you've been dreaming of Will be there, at the end of the road.
Laugh often friends tho' passing years bring, sometimes, smiles and, sometimes, tears, for mirth forever warms and cheers. Laugh often!
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
For all men being originally equals, no one by birth could have the right to set up his own family in perpetual preference to all others forever, and tho' himself might deserve some decent degree of honours of his cotemporaries, yet his descendants might be far too unworthy to inherit them.
Tho marriage be a lottery in which there are a wondrous many blanks, yet there is one inestimable lot in which the only heaven on earth is written.
She who only finds her self-esteem In others' admiration, begs an alms;
Depends on others for her daily food, And is the very servant of her slaves; Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour, O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert, Which not ennobles but degrades her state.
Suspense-is Hostiler than Death-Death- tho soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increase- Suspense-does not conclude-.
Vain empty words / Of honour, glory and immortal fame, / Can these recall the spirit from its place, / Or re-inspire the breathless clay with life? / What tho' your fame with all its thousand trumpets, / Sound o'er the sepulchres, will that awake / The sleeping dead.
The damning tho't stuck in my throat and cut me like a knife, That she, whom all my life I'd loved, should be another's wife.
Keep right on to the end of the road, Keep right on to the end.
Tho' the way be long let your heart be strong, Keep right on round the bend.
Though thou loved her as thyself,As a self of purer clay,Tho' her parting dims the day,Stealing grace from all alive,Heartily know,When half-gods go,The gods arrive.
Happiness was not made to be boasted, but enjoyed.
Therefore tho others count me miserable, I will not believe them if I know and feel myself to be happy; nor fear them.
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Thổ people - of Hanoi. Many Thổ speak the Tho language, which is closely related to Vietnamese. The Thổ population numbered 91,430 in 2019. The Thổ are one of the
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Nguyễn Ngọc Thơ - Nguyễn Ngọc Thơ (26 May 1908 – 12 June 1976) was a Vietnamese politician who was the first Prime Minister of South Vietnam, serving from November 1963
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Death is terrible, tho' borne on angels' wings!
[Tho]ugh death be a dark passage; it leads to immortality, and that is recompense enough for suffering of it. And yet faith lights us, even through the grave....And this is the comfort of the good, and the grave cannot hold them, and they live as they die. For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity.
Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an' tho' a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud an' so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow? Only Sonmi the east an' the west an' the compass an' the atlas, yay, only the atlas o' clouds.
Come, my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
I think that a young state, like a young virgin, should modestly stay at home, and wait the application of suitors for an alliance with her; and not run about offering her amity to all the world; and hazarding their refusal. Our virgin is a jolly one; and tho at present not very rich, will in time be a great fortune, and where she has a favorable predisposition, it seems to me well worth cultivating.
I have often thought that if heaven had given me choice of my position and calling, it should have been on a rich spot of earth, well watered, and near a good market for the productions of the garden. No occupation is so delightful to me as the culture of the earth, and no culture comparable to that of the garden. Such a variety of subjects, some one always coming to perfection, the failure of one thing repaired by the success of another, and instead of one harvest, a continued one thro' the year. Under a total want of demand except for our family table. I am still devoted to the garden. But tho' an old man, I am but a young gardener.
I never had but one intrigue yet: but I confess I long to have another.
Pray heaven it end as the first did tho , that we may both grow weary at a time; for 'Tis a melancholy thing for lovers to outlive one another.
Nay, do not grieve tho' life be full of sadness,Dawn will not veil her spleandor for your grief,Nor spring deny their bright, appointed beautyTo lotus blossom and ashoka leaf.Nay, do not pine, tho' life be dark with trouble,Time will not pause or tarry on his way;To-day that seems so long, so strange, so bitter,Will soon be some forgotten yesterday.Nay, do not weep; new hopes, new dreams, new faces,The unspent joy of all the unborn years,Will prove your heart a traitor to its sorrow,And make your eyes unfaithful to their tears.
Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God's great Judgment Seat;But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,When two strong men stand face to face,tho' they come from the ends of the earth!