A Quote by John Martyn

May you never lay your head down, without a hand to hold. May you never make your bed out in the cold. — © John Martyn
May you never lay your head down, without a hand to hold. May you never make your bed out in the cold.
You may batter your way through the thick of the fray, You may sweat, you may swear, you may grunt; You may be a jack-fool, if you must, but this rule Should ever be kept at the front;-- Don't fight with your pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.
May God guide you on this path. May you understand that you are blessed children and you have a job to do. May you know in your heart that God belongs to you always, within and without. May your sorrows never touch your tomorrow, may your blessings be for all, may your happiness be shared, and may your smiles give hope to others.
Never walk near the bed; to a ghost your ankle is your most vulnerable part-once in bed, you're safe; he may lie around under the bed all night, but you're safe as daylight. If you still have doubts pull the blanket over your head.
I'll never let your head hit the bed without my hand behind it.
May you be children of God, pure and unblameable, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation (cf. Phil. 1:15): and may you never be entangled in the snares of the wicked that go round about, or bound with the chains of your sins. May the Word in you never be smothered with the cares of this life and so make you unfruitful: but may you walk in the King's Highway, turning aside neither to the right hand nor to the left, but led by the Spirit through the narrow gate.
If I dropped a tear upon your hand, may it wither it up! If I spoke a gentle word in your hearing, may it deafen you! If I touched you with my lips, may the touch be poison to you! A curse upon this roof that gave me shelter! Sorrow and shame upon your head! Ruin upon all belonging to you!
Go without a coat when it's cold; find out what cold is. Go hungry; keep your existence lean. Wear away the fat, get down to the lean tissue and see what it's all about. The only time you define your character is when you go without. In times of hardship, you find out what you're made of and what you're capable of. If you're never tested, you'll never define you character.
Everybody's playing the game but nobody's rules are the same... Never make a promise or plan. Take a little love where you can... Never stay too long in your bed. Never lose your heart, use your head... Never take a stranger's advice. Never let a friend fool you twice... Never be the first to believe. Never be the last to deceive... Never leave a moment too soon. Never waste a hot afternoon... Never stay a minute too long. Don't forget the best will go wrong... Better learn to go it alone. Recognise you're out on your own. Nobody's on nobody's side.
Don't fight with the pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.
Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.
These prin­ciples laid down as in variable rules: that one must pay a card sharper, but need not pay a tailor; that one must never tell a lie to a man, but one may to a woman; that one must never cheat any one, but one may a husband; that one must never pardon an insult, but one may give one and so on. These principles were possibly not reasonable and not good, but they were of unfailing certainty, and so long as he adhered to them, Vronsky felt that his heart was at peace and he could hold his head up.
Can you lay your life down, so a stranger can live? Can you take what you need, but take less than you give? Could you close every day, without the glory and fame? Could you hold your head high, when no-one knows your name?
Could I but lay my head in your lap, lass. Feel your hand on me, and sleep wi' the scent of you in my bed. Christ, Sassenach. I need ye.
Engrossed late and soon in professional cares, getting and spending, you may may so lay waste your powers that you may find, too late, with hearts given away, that t here is no place in your habit-stricken souls for those gentler influences which make your life worth living.
I scooted over, patting the bed next to me. "No such luck. And now you get to watch forty straight hours of Easton Heights with me!" He turned on the first disk, shaking his head, then got onto the bed next to me. "Small price to pay for getting to hold your hand." I wasn't cold anymore.
May your stuffing be tasty May your turkey plump, May your potatoes and gravy Have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious And your pies take the prize, And may your Thanksgiving dinner Stay off your thighs!
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