Politicians are the same all over. They promise to build bridges even when there are no rivers.
Those who have one foot in the canoe, and one foot in the boat, are going to fall into the river.
Only after the last tree has been cut down,only after the last river has ben poisoned,only after the last fish has been caught,only then will you find that money cannot be eaten.
If you live in the river you should make friends with the crocodile.
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No river can return to its source, yet all rivers must have a beginning.
If my ship sails from sight, it doesn't mean my journey ends, it simply means the river bends.
No man steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.
No matter how full the river, it still wants to grow.
How could drops of water know themselves to be a river? Yet the river flows on.
I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
Politicians are the same all over. They promise to build A bridge even where there is no river.
Till last by Philip's farm I flowTo join the brimming river,For men may come and men may go,But I go on for ever.
In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.
Only when the last tree has died and the last river been poisoned, and the last fish been caught will we realize we cannot eat money.
If one morning I walked on top of the water across the Potomac River, the headline that afternoon would read: "President Can't Swim."
The activist is not the man who says the river is dirty.
The activist is the man who cleans up the river.
Perhaps some of us have to go through dark and devious ways before we can find the river of peace or highroad to the soul's destination.
True merit is like a river, the deeper it is, the less noise it makes.
Fame is like a river, that beareth up things light and swollen, and drowns things weighty and solid.
Enough shovels of earth -- a mountain. Enough pails of water -- a river.
A river cuts through a rock not because of its power but its persistence.
No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.
Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the wayTo carry the sleigh,Through the white and drifted snow.
Love is the river of life in the world.
Never try to walk across a river just because it has an average depth of four feet.
He who does not know his way to the sea should take a river for his guide.
He who postpones the hour of living is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
A river is more than an amenity, it is a treasure.
No one tests the depth of a river with both feet.
Between flattery and admiration there often flows a river of contempt.
I know the joy of fishes in the river through my own joy, as I go walking along the same river.
I was born upon thy bank, river,My blood flows in thy stream,And thou meanderest foreverAt the bottom of my dream.
Time is a sort of river of passing events, and strong is its current;
no sooner is a thing brought to sight than it is swept by and another takes its place, and this too will be swept away.
Time is like a river. You cannot touch the same water twice because the flow that has passed will never pass again. Enjoy every moment of life.
What makes a river so restful to people is that it doesn't have any doubt - it is sure to get where it is going, and it doesn't want to go anywhere else.
Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.
Gentlemen, suppose all the property you were worth was in gold, and you had put it in the hands of Blondin to carry across the Niagara River on a rope, would you shake the cable, or keep shouting out to himBlondin, stand up a little straighterBlondin, stoop a little morego a little fasterlean a little more to the northlean a little more to the south? No, you would hold your breath as well as your tongue, and keep your hands off until he was safe over. The Government are carrying an immense weight. Untold treasures are in their hands. They are doing the very best they can. Dont badger them. Keep silence, and well get you safe across.
I could as easily bail out the Potomac River with a teaspoon as attend to all the details of the army.
And see the confluence of dreamsThat clashed together in our night,One river born of many streamsRoll in one blaze of blinding light!
George Foreman. A miracle. A mystery to myself. Who am I? The mirror says back. The George you was always meant to be. Wasn't always like that. Used to look in the mirror and cried a river.
A river cuts though a rock, not because of its power, but its persistence
Take a look at your natural river. What are you? Stop playing games with yourself. Where's your river going? Are you riding with it? Or are you rowing against it? Don't you see that there is no effort if you're riding with your river?
If we study the lives of great men and women carefully and unemotionally we find that, invariably, greatness was developed, tested and revealed through the darker periods of their lives. One of the largest tributaries of the RIVER OF GREATNESS is always the STREAM OF ADVERSITY.
Is not disease the rule of existence? There is not a lily pad floating on the river but has been riddled by insects. Almost every shrub and tree has its gall, oftentimes esteemed its chief ornament and hardly to be distinguished from the fruit. If misery loves company, misery has company enough. Now, at midsummer, find me a perfect leaf or fruit.
Is America a land of God where saints abide for ever? Where golden fields spread fair and broad, where flows the crystal river? Certainly not flush with saints, and a good thing, too, for the saints sent buzzing into man's ken now are but poor-mouthed ecclesiastical film stars and clich?-shouting publicity agents. Their little knowledge bringing them nearer to their ignorance, ignorance bringing them nearer to death, but nearness to death no nearer to God.
The elephant, not only the largest but the most intelligent of animals, provides us with an excellent example. It is faithful and tenderly loving to the female of its choice, mating only every third year and then for no more than five days, and so secretly as never to be seen, until, on the sixth day, it appears and goes at once to wash its whole body in the river, unwilling to return to the herd until thus purified. Such good and modest habits are an example to husband and wife.
Feminist art is not some tiny creek running off the great river of real art.
It is not some crack in an otherwise flawless stone. It is, quite spectacularly I think, art which is not based on the subjugation of one half of the species. It is art which will take the great human themes --love, death, heroism, suffering, history itself --and render them fully human. It may also, though perhaps our imaginations are so mutilated now that we are incapable even of the ambition, introduce a new theme, one as great and as rich as those others --should we call it joy?
Everything changes but change itself.
Everything flows and nothing remains the same...You cannot step twice into the same river, for other waters and yet others go flowing ever on.
The fish only knows that it lives in the water, after it is already on the river bank. Without our awareness of another world out there, it would never occur to us to change.
Our trouble is that we drink too much tea.
I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats.
All quiet along the Potomac to-night, no sound save the rush of the river, while soft falls the dew on the face of the dead, the picket's off duty forever.
As the rain falling out of the clouds becomes the life origin for plants, so the stream of creativeness becomes the source of life for a man. Let us feel the pulse of a creative spirit within a man, which sustains his or her vitality, for it, is the only way for one to join the river of eternity. As this truth submerges a man in joy like the sunrays, he or she feels incredibly happy. The spirit of creativity like a stream flowing in a man and watering a dry land of his or her soul, refreshing it and awakening up new forces
Just as there's garbage that pollutes the Potomac river, there is garbage polluting our culture. We need an Environmental Protection Agency to clean it up.
Gently - so have good men taught -Gently, and without grief, the old shall glideInto the new; the eternal flow of things,Like a bright river of the fields of heaven,Shall journey onward in perpetual peace.
Few cross the river of time and are able to reach non-being.
Most of them run up and down only on this side of the river. But those who when they know the law follow the path of the law, they shall reach the other shore and go beyond the realm of death.