The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea The ploughman homeward plods his weary way And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Garden’s hush opens upan abyss at my center, still point. Someone touches me, mystery, otherness. No words are spoken, silencethe language of God.Silence, calm, hushed garden usher me into a presence, presence of my beloved. Let me rest in this quiet visit, gift that puts...
-
Robert Trabold
We are philosophers of our time Floating in the moon's evening glow
-
Anonymous
Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savoring of loneliness.
-
Poppy Z. Brite
The thing, whatever it was - and no one was ever sure afterwards whether it was a dream or a fit or what - happened at that peculiar hour before dawn when human vitality is at its lowest ebb. The Blue Hour they sometimes call...
-
Cornell Woolrich
Within the caves of deepest longing Echoes the sounds of majestic eve! Upon the sphere of bright white skies Spreads the paint of evening colours! Silence divine, Penetrates deep Onto the void of ethereal joy! All I have is a bundle of letters That would...
-
Preeth Nambiar
More Quotes By Thomas Gray
Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea The ploughman homeward plods his weary way And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood.