A Quote by Loren Eiseley

In the days of the frost seek an minor sun. — © Loren Eiseley
In the days of the frost seek an minor sun.
You'd chosen to be an upright biped on the surface of a small planet of a minor sun on the edge of a minor galaxy of one of the multiple trillions of universes. That's OK. It doesn't matter what form you take.
Me, I always wanted frost power.” “Frost power?” “Yeah.” Seth gestured dramatically toward my coffee table. “If we’re talking superhero abilities. If I had frost power, I could wave my hand, and suddenly that whole thing would be covered in ice.” “Not frost?” “Same difference.” “How would frost and/or ice power help you fight crime?” “Well, I don’t know that it would. But it’d be cool.
These are the days when men of all social disciplines and all political faiths seek the comfortable and the accepted; when the man of controversy is looked upon as a disturbing influence; when originality is taken to be a mark of instability; and when, in minor modification of the original parable, the bland lead the bland.
Minor sports in the community is fun and recreation for everyone, not just the elite. I think back to my days in minor hockey and those are my fondest memories, having fun.
Frost is but slender weeks away, Tonight the sunset glow will stay, Swing to the north and burn up higher And Northern Lights wall earth with fire. Nothing is lost yet, nothing broken, And yet the cold blue word is spoken: Say goodbye to the sun. The days of love and leaves are done.
Everything comes by being! Be the love you seek. Be the friend you seek. Be the lover you seek. Be the honesty you seek. Be the integrity you seek. Be the patience you seek. Be the tolerance you seek. Be the compassion you seek.
A sap run is the sweet goodbye of winter. It is the fruit of the equal marriage of the sun and frost.
I was born on a storm-swept rock and hate the soft growth of sun-baked lands where there is no frost in men's bones.
In the old days, people would pick up the phone and complain or they'd write a letter. But now they go to Ofcom and they must be sick to death of all of this. Any minor outrage that anyone's got, they go to Ofcom. They must be inundated with minor complaints.
The Christian Bible is a symbolic book, not a literal one. The one Christians know as Jesus was actually a symbol for the sun. Ancient sun worshippers believed the sun died at the end of the winter solstice and then three days later it would be reborn at the start of its cycle - December 25.
I am the King of Frost Giants. And if you've seen any of the Frost Giants, you know that I am, of course, the Napoleon of Frost Giants. We've got some massive, fabulous guys who dwarf me and come in at around eight-and-a-half feet, nine feet. But, no. Can't you tell by the commanding presence? I am the boss.
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost.
There was a filmy veil of soft dull mist obscuring, but not hiding, all objects, giving them a lilac hue, for the sun had not yet fully set; a robin was singing ... The leaves were more gorgeous than ever; the first touch of frost would lay them all low to the ground. Already one or two kept constantly floating down, amber and golden in the low slanting sun-rays.
Seek the sound that never ceases. Seek the sun that never sets.
I see America, not in the setting sun of a black night of despair ahead of us, I see America in the crimson light of a rising sun fresh from the burning, creative hand of God. I see great days ahead, great days possible to men and women of will and vision.
You wouldn't want me to play Frost in a wheelchair, would you? 'Frost' is getting a little long in the tooth. I still enjoy doing it, and it's a great part, but I just think he's got to retire.
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