A Quote by Charles Wright
How sweet the past is, no matter how wrong, or how sad.
How sweet is yesterday's noise
Related Quotes
Talk of poems and prayers and promises, and things that we believe in. How sweet it is to love someone, how right it is to care, how long it's been since yesterday.
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
How sweet is rest after fatigue! How sweet will heaven be when our journey is ended.
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
By cool Siloam's shady rill
How sweet the lily grows!
How sweet the breath beneath the hill
Of Sharon's dewy rose!
Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses? How soft is this one, how subtle this is, How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is, As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice; How this one clings and how that uncloses From bud to flower in the way of roses.
How happy the lover,
How easy his chain,
How pleasing his pain,
How sweet to discover
He sighs not in vain.
Live in constant gratitude. No matter what the condition today, no matter how dark, how dreary, how painful and difficult....to day is merely the passing outcome of yesterday's nonsense. How you feel today, and what you give your attention to, builds tomorrow.
How shameful. How predictable! How insipid. And how sweet.
Enjoy how sweet, how thoughtful, how kind I'm being on your birthday. Because tomorrow it's back to the same old crap.
My sweet spot is figuring out how to make a product that people love and how to refine it to make them love it more. All the rest is business noise.
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!
How beautiful life is and how sad! How fleeting, with no past and no future, only a limitless now.
One of the sweet things about pain and sorrow is that they show us how well we are loved, how much kindness there is in the world, and how easily we can make others happy in the same way when they need help and sympathy.
Everything seems to me to pass so quickly that we must concentrate on how to die rather than on how to live. How sweet it is to die if one has lived on the Cross with Christ.
No matter how well-born, how intelligent, how highly educated, how virtuous, how rich, how refined, the women of to-day constitutea political class below that of every man, no matter how base-born, how stupid, how ignorant, how vicious, how poverty-stricken, how brutal. The pauper in the almshouse may vote; the lady who devotes her philanthropic thought to making that almshouse habitable, may not. The tramp who begs cold victuals in the kitchen may vote; the heiress who feeds him and endows universities may not.
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