A Quote by Xander Berkeley

I'd better make hay while the sun shines. — © Xander Berkeley
I'd better make hay while the sun shines.
Make hay while the sun shines.
Let us make hay while the sun shines.
I just think make hay while the sun shines really when you're an actor. When the opportunities present themselves you just better take them, otherwise you just don't know.
I thought I'd go away and make one album, but it was extended. The album did so well, and they wanted another album. I was on a high. You make hay while the sun shines, and I was doing it, and you think about yourself; that's what you do.
I think people do work too much. I've never been able to understand the whole 'make hay while the sun shines' thing. Either I want to work or I don't want to work.
When a woman's face is wrinkled And her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday! Aside she's cast, No one respect will pay; Remember, Lasses, remember. And while the sun shines make hay: You must not expect in December, The flowers you gathered in May.
Make hay while the sun is still shining.
When the soldier returns from the wars, even though he has white hair, he very soon finds a young wife. But a woman has only one summer; if she does not make hay while the sun shines, no one will afterwards have anything to say to her, and she spends her days consulting oracles that never send her a husband.
Knowing that things are going to slow down in the future, no matter what, that allows me to work hard now, make hay while the sun is shining and knowing that - while momentum is rolling - we have to hit it hard.
Developing confidence is like watching the sun rise. First it seems very feeble and one wonders whether it will make it. Then it shines and shines.
Actually, I am kind of busy right now,” I drawled as I settled back into the chair and closed my eyes. “You have to make melanin while the sun shines.
When the sun shineth, make hay.
I do not like poems that resemble hay compressed into a geometrically perfect cube. I like it when the hay, unkempt, uncombed, with dry berries mixed in it, thrown together gaily and freely, bounces along atop some truck-and more, if there are some lovely and healthy lasses atop the hay-and better yet if the branches catch at the hay, and some of it tumbles to the road.
A false friend and a shadow attend only while the sun shines.
Shall we go dance the hay, the hay? Never pipe could ever play Better shepherd's roundelay.
Let's make hay while it lasts.
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