A Quote by William C. Bryant
Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.
Related Quotes
On bravely through the sunshine and the showers!
Time hath his work to do, and we have ours.
A gardener's life is full of sweets and sours; He gets the sunshine when he needs the showers.
The actual Irish weather report is really a recording made in 1922, which no one has had occasion to change. "Scattered showers, periods of sunshine."
In kindly showers and sunshine bud The branches of the dull gray wood; Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks The blue eye of the violet looks.
Showers and sunshine bring,
Slowly, the deepening verdure o'er the earth;
To put their foliage out, the woods are slack,
And one by one the singing-birds come back.
Round the boles of the pine-wood the ground-laurel creeps, Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers!
Yes, great God, these torrents of tears which flow down from my eyes announce thy divine presence in my soul. This heart hitherto so dry, so arid, so hard; this rock which thou hast struck a second time, will not resist thee any longer, for out of it there now gushes healthful waters in abundance. The selfsame voice of God which overturns the mountains, thunders, lightens, and divides the heaven above, now commands the clouds to pour forth showers of blessings, changing the desert of his soul into a field producing a hundredfold; that voice I hear.
Like a plant that starts up in showers and sunshine and does not know which has best helped it to grow, it is difficult to say whether the hard things or the pleasant things did me the most good.
You are my sunshine my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know dear how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away.
I hate to take showers! Guitarists don't like showers 'cause we like the grease to build up on our fingers, makes playing more fluid.
I can make your tears fall down like the showers that are British.
I had forgotten what mustard fields looked like... Sheet upon sheet of blazing yellow, half way between sulphur and celandine, with hot golden sunshine pouring down upon them out of a dazzling June sky. It thrilled me like music.
I was pleasantly surprised after the book came out. It was like, hey, the home team put down a nice score.
Emerald slopes became so tall they touched the clouds, and showers painted diamond waterfalls that sluiced down cliff sides.
I had an audition where Josh Brolin was pelting me with his personality. I didn't get the part.
I started down but Sam caught my arm and knelt down himself to look. "For crying out loud," he said. "It's a racoon." "Poor thing," I said. "It could be a rabid baby-killer," Cole told me primly. "Shut up," Sam said pleasantly.
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