A Quote by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

How beautiful, how buoyant, and glad is morning! — © Letitia Elizabeth Landon
How beautiful, how buoyant, and glad is morning!
How beautiful, buoyant, and glad is morning! The first sunshine on the leaves: the first wind, laden with the first breath of the flowers—that deep sigh with which they seem to waken from sleep; the first dew, untouched even by the light foot of the early hare; the first chirping of the rousing birds, as if eager to begin song and flight; all is redolent of the strength given by rest, and the joy of conscious life.
It often seems to me that the biggest single issue for a writer is how to stay buoyant enough to go on writing. How not to drown.
O how beautiful is morning! How the sunbeams strike the daisies And the kingcups fill the meadow Like a golden-shielded army Marching to the uplands fair.
In a perfect world, mothers would remind their daughters each morning of how beautiful their strong noses are, or how special their curly red hair is.
Read books that expand you, that are bright. See films, plays, art forms that elevate your consciousness, that bring you into a sense of how beautiful this world is, how beautiful other worlds are, how beautiful nirvana, the transcendental is.
That's always the biggest surprise when people meet me: how buoyant I am and how fun and light I am.
I am so glad you are here. It helps me realize how beautiful my world is.
Enlightenment is like witnessing the brilliant sun for the first time in the morning. It is like seeing the beautiful flowers that grow in the woods , the frolicking deer, a bird flying proudly, or fish swimming. Life is not all that grim. In the morning when you brush your teeth, you can see how shiny they are. Reality has its own gallantry, spark, and arrogance. You can study life while you are alive. You can study how you can achieve the brilliance of life.
How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee Where, like a bird set free, Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong, No more shall yield to wrong, Shall squander life no more; Days lost, I know not how, I shall retrieve them now; Now I shall keep the vow I never kept before. Ensanguining the skies How heavily it dies Into the west away; Past touch and sight and sound Not further to be found, How hopeless under ground Falls the remorseful day.
The one who has not seen Paris in the morning does not know how beautiful it is.
How beautiful she is, Our Lady of compassion! How dear! How utterly unselfish! How filled with joy for Him - and us - in the depths of her own agony and desolation!
When I'm doing sports, I always think of how it's related to singing, and when I watch tennis, I learn a lot for my singing: how the players are focused, how they use their technique, and, in the case of Roger Federer, how effortless it is and how beautiful it is to watch - like bel canto, in a way. That's how singing should be.
You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen walking this earth. You have no clue of how beautiful you are or how brightly you shine.
Women of all looks, shapes, sizes, everything, if they recognize how beautiful they are-because they all are-then they carry it that way. And you can see that. Confidence is reflected in how they walk and how they dress and how they speak and how they carry themselves. It's just amazing. And that can turn anybody's head pretty quick, especially mine.
It takes faith to find personal significance in your relationship with God rather than how much money you earn, how beautiful you look, how many toys you own, how many trophies you collect, or how much territory you conquer and control.
How beautiful life is and how sad! How fleeting, with no past and no future, only a limitless now.
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