A Quote by Geoffrey Hill
September fattens on vines. Roses flake from the wall. The smoke of harmless fires drifts to my eyes. This is plenty. This is more than enough.
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If I was in the gutter, and my kids lived on the kerb, I'd go and get a job in B&Q before I'd reform the Roses. I gave everything I had to the Stone Roses and ended up hitting a brick wall. I'm never going to give anyone a foothold on that wall again.
Stand here by my side and turn, I pray,
On the lake below thy gentle eyes;
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray,
And dark and silent the water lies;
And out of that frozen mist the snow
In wavering flakes begins to flow;
Flake after flake,
They sink in the dark and silent lake.
You know how the bonds of family are, my lady... They cling as tightly as vines. And sometimes, like vines, they cling tightly enough to kill.
He Is looking at me through the smoke, across the fence. He never takes his eyes off me. His hair Is a crown of leaves, of thorns, of flames. His eyes are blazing with light, more light than all the lights in every city in the whole world, more light than we could ever invent If we had ten thousand billion years.
The threat of a government shutdown has caused the Republicans and Donald Trump, as of now, to delay the funding for the wall until the fiscal year 2017-18 budget year, which will happen in September. This has the potential of bothering some Trump supporters. This is not nearly enough callers to make any kind of scientific statement, but every caller we took on said - delaying the wall is not what I want. The more you delay it, the greater the chance it isn't gonna happen.
It would take more than long-stemmed roses to change my view that you're a despicable cowardy custard and a disgrace to a proud family. Your ancestors fought in the Crusades and were often mentioned in despatches, and you cringe like a salted snail at the thought of appearing as Santa Claus before an audience of charming children who wouldn't hurt a fly. It's enough to make an aunt turn her face to the wall and give up the struggle.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
One very great annoyance in open air gatherings is cigar smoke when blown directly in one's face or worse yet the smoke from a smouldering cigar. It is almost worthy of a study in air currents to discover why with plenty of space all around, a tiny column of smoke will make straight for the nostrils of the very one most nauseated by it!
All of the Vines that were acted & setup & had nice cameras, those weren't the good Vines. The good Vines were, like, a random little kid in the middle of a forest, like, yelling.
Hey mister, where you goin' in such a hurry? Don't you think it's time you realize There's a whole lot more to life than work and worry All the sweetest things in life are free And they're right before your eyes? You've got to stop and smell the roses You've got to count your many blessings every day You're gonna find your way to heaven is a rough and rocky road If you don't stop and smell the roses along the way
The truth is that there's more than enough good to go around. There is more than enough creative ideas. There is more than enough power. There is enough for everyone. If you believe it, if you can see it, if you act from it, it will show up for you. That's the truth.
You may have heard the saying, 'When you're in love, smoke gets in your eyes.' Well when you're talking, smoke gets in your eyes and ears. Once you're on a roll, it's very easy to not notice that you've worn out your welcome.
Who are you?" "I am Death," said the creature. "I thought that was obvious." "But you're so small!" "Only because you are small. You are young and far from your Death, September, so I seem as anything would seem if you saw it from a long way off-very small, very harmless. But I am always closer than I appear. As you grow, I shall grow with you, until at the end, I shall loom huge and dark over your bed, and you will shut your eyes so as not to see me.
then, as though it had been waiting on a near by roof for their arrival, the moon came slanting suddenly through the vines and turned the girl's face the color of white roses.
Your next-door neighbor is not a man; he is an environment. He is the barking of a dog; he is the noise of a piano; he is a dispute about a party wall; he is drains that are worse than yours, or roses that are better than yours.
Enough of anything is plenty, but plenty to some people is never enough.
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