Top 1200 Hudson River Quotes & Sayings - Page 19

Explore popular Hudson River quotes.
Last updated on April 21, 2025.
Each soil has had its own history. Like a river, a mountain, a forest, or any natural thing, its present condition is due to the influences of many things and events of the past.
One of the the things she most liked about the city -apart from all its obvious attractions, the theatre, the galleries, the exhilarating walks by the river- was that so few people ever asked you personal questions.
What auto and steel is to Ohio River Valley, refineries are to the oil regions. You wouldn't tell Silicon Valley you're going to put a moratorium on high-tech. — © Gene Green
What auto and steel is to Ohio River Valley, refineries are to the oil regions. You wouldn't tell Silicon Valley you're going to put a moratorium on high-tech.
In him converge all previous streams of tendency, not as into a pool, stagnant, passive, motionless, but as a noble river that received its tributary waters and bearss them onward in larger and statelier volume.
All goes back to the earth, and so I do not desire pride of excess or power, but the contentments made by men who have had little: the fisherman's silence receiving the river's grace, the gardener's musing on rows.
I journeyed to London, to the timekept City, Where the River flows, with foreign flotations. There I was told: we have too many churches, And too few chop-houses.
But think of how much worse it would be to sit here, not knowing. Until the Dead choke the Ratterlin and Hedge walks across the dry bed of the river to batter down the door.
In the gun game, we are the most hunted. The river of blood that washes the streets of our nation flows mostly from the bodies of our black children.
With epidemics, people have been standing on the shore, waiting for the gusher to hit the ocean. But to prevent epidemics, you have to look at the various little sources that feed into the river.
River Song: Right, I have questions. But number one is this: what in the name of sanity have you got on your head? The Doctor: It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool.
The fifth century BC historian Herodotus called Egypt ‘the gift of the Nile’. The Egyptians themselves went a lot further. They claimed that their sacred river had its source among the stars.
But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder.
If life is a river, then pursuing Christ requires swimming upstream. When we stop swimming, or actively following Him, we automatically begin to be swept downstream. — © Francis Chan
If life is a river, then pursuing Christ requires swimming upstream. When we stop swimming, or actively following Him, we automatically begin to be swept downstream.
Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no valley low enough, ain't no river wide enough, to keep me from getting to you.
An old-growth forest, a mountain range or a river valley is more important and certainly more loveable than any country will ever be.
How lovely the little river is, with its dark changing wavelets! It seems to me like a living companion while I wander along the bank, and listen to its low, placid voice.
Start with a growing market. Swim in a stream that becomes a river and ultimately an ocean. Be a leader in that market, not a follower, and constantly build the best products possible.
My favorite holiday spot has to be New York, on the St. Lawrence River. Without a doubt that area there is perfect for me. Very, very spacious. It's nice.
Like the dew on the mountain, like the foam on the river, like the bubble on the fountain, thou art gone, and for ever!
I don't make a particular distinction between 'high art' and 'low art.' Music is there for everybody. It's a river we can all put our cups into and drink it and be sustained by it.
Ludlow....is probably the loveliest town in England with its hill of Georgian houses ascending from the river Teme to the great tower of the cross-shaped church, rising behind a classic market building.
Nature promotes mutualism. The flower nourishes the bee. The river waters quench the thirst of all living beings. And trees provide a welcoming home to so many birds and animals. There is a rhythm to this togetherness.
Between the banks of pleasure and pain flows the river of life. If you spend much time on either bank you will miss out on life.
Appearance is everything. I find that a view is secondary. Even in those apartments on the East River, it's dull, looking out at those little boats.
Growing up, I remember taking trips with my family to Kentucky Lake and visiting Lake Cumberland, and camping with friends at Red River Gorge.
We swim, day by day, on a river of delusions, and are effectually amused with houses and towns in the air, of which the men aboutus are dupes. But life is a sincerity.
To stay present in everyday life, it helps to be deeply rooted within yourself; otherwise, the mind, which has incredible momentum, will drag you along like a wild river.
Within each of us dwells a higher order of consciousness created with a possibility far greater than to merely appear and disappear as some form in the river of passing time.
To sustain an environment suitable for man, we must fight on a thousand battlegrounds. Despite all of our wealth and knowledge, we cannot create a redwood forest, a wild river, or a gleaming seashore.
I had been a kind of natural mystic my whole life, growing up there in Tennessee next to the river. Somehow, that was important for my consciousness. I still don't study [mysticism]. I just wait for experiences.
I keep some portion of my early gleam; Brokenly bright, like moonbeams on a river, It lights my life, a far illusive dream, Moves as I move, and leads me on forever.
When I was a child and came with my elders to Galway for their salmon fishing in the river that rushes past the gaol, I used to look with awe at the window where men were hung, and the dark, closed gate.
I am an intelligent river which has reflected successively all the banks before which it has flowed by meditating only on the images offered by those changing shores.
I'm originally from a town called Ipswich. I currently live in Newburyport. It's a port city, so I'm right on a river. It's really close to New Hampshire; I can pretty much throw a rock. I like where I'm from.
We will stand by Punjab, Punjabis and Punjabiat, unlike Parkash Singh Badal, who makes Chandigarh, river waters and other emotive issues his bread and butter during the elections.
'River' is all about tension and release. It's about intimacy and solace. It's about staring someone in the face and not backing down.
A lot of West Virginia is untouched. It doesn't have as many strip malls, it has these old towns that feel like it used to be how it looked. Charleston has this river that runs through it, and it's really beautiful.
When we talk of leaving our childhood behind us, we might as well say that the river flowing onward to the sea had left the fountain behind. — © Anna Brownell Jameson
When we talk of leaving our childhood behind us, we might as well say that the river flowing onward to the sea had left the fountain behind.
Some people believe that when you die, you cross the River of Death and have to pay the ferryman. People don’t seem to worry about that these days. Perhaps there’s a bridge now.
So tomorrow we disappear into the unknown. This account I am transmitting down the river by canoe, and it may be our last word to those who are interested in our fate.
Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when.
I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse-yum. Hang on, Carter, I thought. not hunting mice.
There is another alphabet Whispering from every leaf, Singing from every river, Shimmering from every sky.
Time, as a river, hath brought down to us what is more light and superficial, while things more solid and substantial have been immersed.
Civilisation never dies, it may change, but it is eternal. Where the paddy field is born on the dry river bed of Titash, there begins another civilisation.
I trained for the marathon. I run along the East River, and I used to run all the way down Manhattan, up the West Side and back home.
You can't get a degree at Tisch College. It serves as an amplifier for what your focus is. If you're an engineer, you can take courses on understanding how to move a river in Africa to bring hydroelectric power to a community.
As a youngster I worked the river boats going down the Mississippi and Illinois Rivers, pushing barges to Chicago, then all the way down to New Orleans. — © Clint Walker
As a youngster I worked the river boats going down the Mississippi and Illinois Rivers, pushing barges to Chicago, then all the way down to New Orleans.
My girlfriend and I rented a nice house on the river and I was there for about two and a half months, and we were just out of Alabama. I hardly got to see Alabama.
The river that flows in you also flows in me.
I did a lot of camping in Africa, because what does it mean to go to Africa if you don't camp along the river and see the animals come to drink at the water?
Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats.
After the doctor's departure Koznyshev felt inclined to go to the river with his fishing rod. He was fond of angling, and seemed proud of being able to like such a stupid occupation.
Alfriston is a compact village set around a rather traffic-weary High Street, mainly of old, timbered buildings. The principal sights lie to the east on the river side.
But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, it's bloom is shed; Or, like the snow-fall in the river, A moment white, then melts forever.
Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill: For there the mystical brotherhood Of sun and moon and hollow and wood And river and stream work out their will.
Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh, Through the white and drifted snow.
If you think you can grasp me, think again: my story flows in more than one direction, a delta springing from the river bed with its five fingers spread.
Go, little book, and wish to all Flowers in the garden, meat in the hall, A bin of wine, a spice of wit, A house with lawns enclosing it, A living river by the door, A nightingale in the sycamore!
I went to Communism as one goes to a spring of fresh water, and I left Communism as one clambers out of a poisoned river strewn with the wreckage of flooded cities and the corpses of the drowned.
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