A Quote by Truman Capote

But it's Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks are slow on Sundays. — © Truman Capote
But it's Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks are slow on Sundays.
Workers should have Sundays off because Sunday is for the family. Calling for Sundays to be a holiday.
Some Sundays, I read it quickly - other Sundays, I savor it. I generally spend most of my time in 'The New York Times Book Review,' 'Sunday Business,' 'Sunday Review,' and 'The New York Times Magazine.' I turn all the other pages, only stopping when I find a headline that interests me.
I try to not work too many Sundays. At least on Sunday nights, I try to chill out a little bit. I call it Sunday Funday.
Forgiveness to letting go of a bell rope. If you have ever seen a country church with a bell in the steeple, you will remember that to get the bell ringing you have to tug awhile. Once it has begun to ring, you merely maintain the momentum. As long as you keep pulling, the bell keeps ringing. Forgiveness is letting go of the rope. It is just that simple. But when you do so, the bell keeps ringing. Momentum is still at work. However, if you keep your hands off the rope, the bell will begin to slow and eventually stop.
Even the street, the sunshine, the very air had a special Sunday quality. We walked differently on Sundays, with greater propriety and stateliness. Greetings were more formal, more subdued, voices more meticulously polite. Everything was so smooth, bland, polished. And genuinely so, because this was Sunday. In church the rustling and the stillness were alike pervaded with the knowledge that all was for the best. Propriety ruled the universe. God was in His Heaven, and we were in our Sunday clothes.
I have over a hundred clocks. I've got fancy clocks and clocks from all over the world that people made for me.
It is Sunday, mid-morning-Sunday in the living room, Sunday in the kitchen, Sunday in the woodshed, Sunday down the road in the village: I hear the bells, calling me to share God's grace.
I wear pink on Saturdays for breast cancer, and I wear blue on Sundays. I'm superstitious. At the Evian tournament in 2010, in which I came in second, I wore baby blue on a Sunday. And ever since then, I've worn it every Sunday. Puma sponsors me, so I wear all their outfits in bright colors. I wear matching hair ribbons, too.
Sundays are church and more family time. Sunday evenings I try to organize myself for the week ahead.
How many Sundays - how many hundreds of Sundays like this - lay ahead of me? “Quiet, peaceful, and lonely,” I said aloud to myself. On Sundays, I didn't wind my spring.
Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,’ Holly advised him. ‘That was Doc’s mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can’t give your heart to a wild thing; the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That’s how you’ll end up Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky.
Sometimes there's nothing but Sundays for weeks on end. Why can't they move Sunday to the middle of the week so you could put it in the OUT tray on your desk?
On Sunday morning I went out for a while in the neighbourhood; I bought some raisin bread. The day was warm but a little sad, as Sundays often are in Paris, especially when one doesn't believe in God.
Sundays are for Dim Sum. While the rest of America goes to church, Sunday School, or NFL games, you can find Chinese people eating Cantonese food.
I, like most guys, sit around on Sundays, turn on 'NFL Sunday Ticket,' and watch a dozen-plus games every weekend, much to the dismay of my family.
I never wore a watch. I always depend on public clocks, and stores have clocks, but that is strange.
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