A Quote by Bret Harte

For the glory born of Goodness Never dies, And its flag is not half-masted In the skies. — © Bret Harte
For the glory born of Goodness Never dies, And its flag is not half-masted In the skies.
I have never been able to think of the day as one of mourning; I have never quite been able to feel that half-masted flags were appropriate on Decoration Day. I have rather felt that the flag should be at the peak, because those whose dying we commemorate rejoiced in seeing it where their valor placed it. We honor them in a joyous, thankful, triumphant commemoration of what they did.
Nature, body, mind go to death, not we. We neither go nor come. The man Vivekananda is in nature, is born and dies. But the Self we see as Vivekananda is never born and never dies. It is the eternal and unchangeable Reality.
Man never dies, nor is he ever born; bodies die, but he never dies.
By the way, I don't mean to pick nits here, but Obama has just ordered the flag at half-mast for 10 days for Mandela. He did not order the flag at half-mast at all for Lady Thatcher.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
The voice of Nature loudly cries,And many a message from the skies,That something in us never dies.
One of the most tragicomic things in life is that when a man makes an imaginary thing - such as a religion - as his own flag and carries it all his life and even dies for it! An intelligent man has only one flag: Flag of reason and science!
The tree of life is growing where the spirit never dies, and the bright light of salvation shines in dark and empty skies.
Ask your friends how many stars will be in the U.S. flag in 50 years? And the reason why that's a reasonable question is because there has never been a President of the United States who's been buried under the same flag he was born under.
I remember that, at an early age, I spent many months making a three-masted sailing boat with rigging in a half-walnut shell.
We cherish too, the Poppy red That grows on fields where valor led, It seems to signal to the skies That blood of heroes never dies.
What is Americanism? Every one has a different answer. Some people say it is never to submit to the dictation of a King. Others say Americanism is the pride of liberty and the defence of an insult to the flag with their gore. When some half-developed person tramples on that flag, we should be ready to pour out the blood of the nation, they say. But do we not sit in silence when that flag waves over living conditions which should be an insult to all patriotism?
When Freedom from her mountain-height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light. Flag of the free heart's hope and home! By angel hands to valour given! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
HARK how all the Welkin rings "Glory to the Kings of Kings, "Peace on Earth, and Mercy mild, "GOD and Sinners reconcil'd! Joyful all ye Nations rise, Join the Triumph of the Skies, Universal Nature say "CHRIST the LORD is born to Day!
Secret thoughts are only half free: they fly undisturbed in the skies of the inner freedom, but they can never leave them.
It is the soldier who salutes the flag, serves beneath the flag, whose coffin is draped by the flag, who gives that protester the freedom to abuse and burn that flag.
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