A Quote by William Ralph Inge

The soul is dyed by the color of its leisure hours. — © William Ralph Inge
The soul is dyed by the color of its leisure hours.
The right use of leisure is no doubt a harder problem than the right use of our working hours. The soul is dyed the color of its leisure thoughts.
The soul is dyed with the color of its leisure thoughts.
The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.
The soul is dyed the color of its thoughts. Think only on those things that are in line with your principles and can bear the light of day.
What have we got here in America that we believe we cannot live without? We have the most varied and imaginative bathrooms in the world, we have kitchens with the most gimmicks, we have houses with every possible electrical gadget to save ourselves all kinds of trouble - all so that we can have leisure. Leisure, leisure, leisure! So that we don't go mad in the leisure, we have color TV. So that there will never, never, be a moment of silence, we have radio and Muzak. We can't stand silence, because silence includes thinking. And if we thought, we would have to face ourselves.
I dyed my own hair this Chocolate Cherry color, and I forget what brand it was, but I remember getting into so much trouble because it stained our bathtub. It was this red-black color, and it was a big mistake.
Your mind will be like its habitual thoughts; for the soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts. Soak it then in such trains of thoughts as, for example: Where life is possible at all, a right life is possible.
In general, therefore, color is a means of exerting a direct influence upon the soul. Color is the keyboard. The eye is the hammer. The soul is the piano with its many strings. The artist is the hand that purposefully sets the soul vibrating by means of this or that key.
It's not a man's working hours that are important--it's his leisure hours. That's the mistake we all make.
Leisure time is only leisure time when it is earned; otherwise, leisure time devolves into soul-killing lassitude. There's a reason so many new retirees, freed from the treadmill of work, promptly keel over on the golf course: Work fulfills us. It keeps us going.
A person's life is dyed with the color of his imagination.
No religion makes more use of color than Hinduism, with its blue-skinned gods and peony-lipped goddesses, and even the spring festival of Holi is focused on color: Boys squirt arcs of dyed water on passersby or dump powder, all violently hued, on their marks.
Leisure is not synonymous with time. Nor is it a noun. Leisure is a verb. I leisure. You leisure.
You know what I hate about rock? I hate tie-dyed tee shirts. I wouldn't wear a tie-dyed tee shirt unless it was dyed with the urine of Phil Collins and the blood of Jerry Garcia.
The world is dyed with the color of blood. It will never be able to go back to the way it was before.
Once you dye your hair for the first time, you see other people with dyed hair, and you see them differently than you did before. And you're just like 'Yes! Live! Work that color! Yes, I love you in every way! You're killin' it! I want to do that color next!'
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