A Quote by George Meredith

What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life! — © George Meredith
What a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!
Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul when hot for certainties in this our life!
Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life! - In tragic hints here see what evermore Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean's force, Thundering like ramping hosts of warrior horse, To throw that faint thin fine upon the shore!
...we should all fortify ourselves against the dark hours of depression by cultivating a deep distrust of the certainties of despair. Despair is relentless in the certainties of its pessimism. But we have seen again and again, from our own experience and others', that absolute statements of hopelessness that we make in the dark are notoriously unreliable. Our dark certainties are not sureties.
Dusty Rhodes was a great athlete. Actually, he was a baseball player as well. He played football but he played baseball. That was his number one sport. He wasn't always heavyset like he is. But Dusty Rhodes, The American Dream he just gets charisma.
I'm surprised how hot it gets in the Moab Desert. I knew it got hot, but I didn't think it got, like, Mercury-hot.
Sometimes the probabilities are very close to certainties, but they're never really certainties
Sometimes the probabilities are very close to certainties, but they're never really certainties.
And then it gets so hot that they keep the supermarkets too cold. Hot, cold. Hot, cold. It gives me the runs." Mr. Landowsky
I find it difficult to speak in remote places because it is so hot and dusty that I tend to choke.
It seems to be very hard for people to live with riddles or to let them live, although one would think that life is so full of riddles as it is that a few more things we cannot answer would make no difference. But perhaps it is just this that is so unendurable, that there are irrational things in our own psyche which upset the conscious mind in its illusory certainties by confronting it with the riddle of its existence.
The man, most man, Works best for men, and, if most men indeed, He gets his manhood plainest from his soul: While, obviously, this stringent soul itself Obeys our old rules of development; The Spirit ever witnessing in ours, And Love, the soul of soul, within the soul, Evolving it sublimely.
It gets to the point where you're hot, you're hot, and when you're not, you're not. It's so true. I have to slow down soon.
Its not always you get to hit the iron when it is hot. I believe in hitting it so hard, that it gets hot.
I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return'd to me, And answer'd: 'I Myself am Heav'n and Hell
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread.
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