A Quote by Hafez

You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel. — © Hafez
You have actually waltzed with tremendous style, my sweet, O my sweet, crushed angel.
Sweet is the rose, but grows upon a brere; Sweet is the juniper, but sharp his bough; Sweet is the eglantine, but stiketh nere; Sweet is the firbloome, but its braunches rough; Sweet is the cypress, but its rynd is tough; Sweet is the nut, but bitter is his pill; Sweet is the broome-flowre, but yet sowre enough; And sweet is moly, but his root is ill.
If you have a sweet tooth, you'll have a sweet mouth when you're done, because all your teeth are going to be sweet.
Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,/ The bee's collected treasure sweet,/ Sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet/ The still small voice of gratitude.
Sweetness! World needs sweetness! It needs a sweet child, a sweet dolphin, a sweet monkey; it needs sweet people to soften the callous hearts!
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude! But grant me still a friend in my retreat, whom I may whisper, solitude is sweet.
There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?
Sweet Phosphor, bring the dayWhose conquering rayMay chase these fogs;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!Light will repayThe wrongs of night;Sweet Phosphor, bring the day!
I got to work with Paul Walker. He's an angel. He was so sweet.
When you don't use sugar in your diet, all of the sudden fruits are really sweet. Honey is really sweet. Your taste buds change. I'm not psycho never have anything sweet, because that takes too much energy. The stress on your body just isn't worth it.
Black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love.
Sweet love! Sweet lines! Sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn
Preacher who says that the sweet life is made from bitter parts is more or less telling those who have come to mourn the teenage suicide that this is just one bitter ingredient in the sweet thing foreordained by the benevolent god. To which I want to shake my fist and say: There is not one sweet thing about it. It is only bitter.
[Independence Day] was a sweet, sweet job, because it was one of those big surprises.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds.
Cultivate a sweet temper and the sweet speech which is its natural consequence.
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.
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