Top 1200 Sunday Afternoon Quotes & Sayings - Page 2

Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.

Your momma used to live at the church on Sunday You just go to LIV after church on Sunday

In Chicagoland, they had afternoon 'Jeopardy!' and afternoon Cubs games when they were at home, so that was basically what I would watch and it's what got me interested in Jeopardy! and sports statistics at an early age.

When I was growing up, Sunday lunch was my favorite time as a child. We would have a big Sunday English meal, and we would argue about things.

Sunday is the day I connect with Buenos Aires. I speak to or text my mother every day, but on Sunday I phone everyone.

It must be good to die in Toronto. The transition between life and death would be continuous, painless and scarcely noticeable in this silent town. I dreaded the Sundays and prayed to God that if he chose for me to die in Toronto, he would let it be on a Saturday afternoon to save me from one more Toronto Sunday.

You sign a contract, and you abide by the contract. And sometimes my turn would come around on Sunday. Even though I didn't like to play baseball on Sunday, it was my job.

The Murdoch-owned 'Sunday Times' has an appalling history of involvement in illegal activity. And it's because they're Sunday papers; they're trying to get scoops that the dailies haven't got.

I grew up in rural Alabama, 50 miles from Montgomery, in a very loving, wonderful family: wonderful mother, wonderful father. We attended church; we went to Sunday school every Sunday.

After my parents' divorce when I was 4, I spent weekends with my dad before we finally moved to California. By the time Sunday rolled around, I was incapable of enjoying the day's activities, of being in the moment, because I was already dreading the inevitable goodbye of Sunday evening.

It's what counts, isn't it, on the Sunday, rather than pre-season testing. If you lock up, you do a little mistake, it's nothing, but if you do it on Sunday, you lose a place or you have to box for a flat spot or something like that. It's a much bigger problem.

So many people have disappointed me. And there's also been so many people - not so many, but a few people who make everything worth it, stick through it, and they show loyalty. And no matter what goes down, seas or rough or calm Sunday afternoon, those are people that are worth it. You die for those people.

Sunday morning may be cheery enough, with its extra cup of coffee and litter of Sunday newspapers, but there is always hanging over it the ominous threat of 3 P.M., when the sun gets around to the back windows and life stops dead in its tracks.

The story of Harold Fry and his unlikely pilgrimage began as an afternoon play for radio. For many years, I have been writing plays and adapting novels for 'Woman's Hour' and the 'Classic' series. So this was originally a three-hander play, broadcast one sunny afternoon on BBC Radio 4.

One afternoon I decided, with a couple of friends, to eat out. We set out hunting for a good restaurant and couldn't find a single place because everything was shut. Finally we had to have idlis at a place and that too at 5 P. M. I didn't know Goa totally shuts down in the afternoon.

The beginning of my love for football goes back to when I was seven years old. I was spending time with my grandmother, Caletha Vick. I never knew anything about the game until one Sunday afternoon when she turned on the television because the Redskins were playing. They were my Uncle Casey's favorite team-and my grandmother's favorite too. After watching the game with them, I was hooked.

I'll do two gigs on a Saturday night until four o'clock in the morning, wake up, and do drag brunch on a Sunday, and then another party Sunday night. I definitely take what I do very seriously.

I had been downright paranoid all afternoon, aware of everyone near me. By the time I went for the car, my neck and shoulders were knotted into one painful ache. The most frightening thing I'd seen all afternoon had been the prices on the designer clothing.

I soon found an opportunity to be introduced to a famous professor Johann Bernoulli. ... True, he was very busy and so refused flatly to give me private lessons; but he gave me much more valuable advice to start reading more difficult mathematical books on my own and to study them as diligently as I could; if I came across some obstacle or difficulty, I was given permission to visit him freely every Sunday afternoon and he kindly explained to me everything I could not understand.

As a football player, you're really an actor. I spent all Sunday getting into character. Sunday at 10 a.m., I have to be upset with someone who didn't do anything to me. By 11 a.m. I have to be angry. And by noon, I have to be furious.

In the country Sunday is the day on which you do exactly as much work as you do on other days but feel guilty all the time you are doing it because Sunday is a day of rest.

Roosevelt could always keep ahead with his work, but I cannot do it, and I know it is a grievous fault, but it is too late to remedy it. The country must take me as it found me. Wasn't it your mother who had a servant girl who said it was no use for her to try to hurry, that she was a "Sunday chil" and no "Sunday chil" could hurry? I don't think I am a Sunday child, but I ought to have been; then I would have had an excuse for always being late.

People expect to see white guys, Sunday afternoon, on 'Face the Nation.' And people with a direct interest in politics do watch those shows. But not a lot of normal people watch those shows. But, 'Real Time With Bill Maher,' it's unbelievable how many people watch that.

I asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness. And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men. They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them. And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines river and I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion.

Einstein uses his concept of God more often than a Catholic priest. Once I asked him: 'Tomorrow is Sunday. Do you want me to come to you, so we can work?' 'Why not?' 'Because I thought perhaps you would like to rest on Sunday.' Einstein settled the question by saying with a loud laugh: 'God does not rest on Sunday either.'

HEAVEN knows the difference between SUNDAY morning and WEDNESDAY afternoon. God longs to speak as CLEARLY in the workplace as He does in the sanctuary. He longs to be WORSHIPED when we sit at the dinner table and not just when we come to His communion table. You may go days without THINKING of Him, but there's never a moment when He's not thinking of YOU.

Sitting with her on Sunday evening - a wet Sunday evening - the very time of all others when if a friend is at hand the heart must be opened, and every thing told.

A week filled up with selfishness, and the Sabbath stuffed full of religious exercises, will make a good Pharisee, but a poor Christian. There are many persons who think Sunday is a sponge with which to wipe out the sins of the week. Now, God's altar stands from Sunday to Sunday, and the seventh day is no more for religion than any other. It is for rest. The whole seven are for religion, and one of them for rest.

…. Query: How contrive not to waste one's time? Answer: By being fully aware of it all the while. Ways in which this can be done: By spending one's days on an uneasy chair in a dentist's waiting-room; by remaining on one's balcony all of a Sunday afternoon; by listening to lectures in a language on doesn't know; by traveling by the longest and least-convenient train routes, and of course standing all the way; by lining up at the box-office of theaters and then not buying a seat; and so forth.

I keep all my Sunday papers out, I keep them all week and then I change them every Sunday.

Every Sunday my dad calls to ask if I went to church. And every Sunday I lie and say: Sorry. Wrong Number.

I love a fresh coffee in the morning and one with a snack mid-afternoon. But I'm strict I don't have it after 4 in the afternoon as it stays in your system for too long and I don't want it to affect my sleep as I have to been dozing off by 10 o'clock to get up for half four.

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.

If people call me a Sunday painter I'm a Sunday painter who paints every day of the week!

The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday, that’s guaranteed. And I can’t begin to explain that- or the craziness inside myself and everybdy else,but guess what? Sunday is my fav day again

There was a little afternoon show that was called Afternoon. Back in those days in television, most local stations had a midday show for housewives that had a series of things. It was like a variety show for midday.

I was very keen on squash. My father used to go to sleep in the afternoon. Normally, in Pakistan, everybody goes to sleep in the afternoon, because it's really hot. I'd go and play without telling anybody.

I really enjoy spending Sunday evenings with friends, because Sunday evenings are always frightening. You are obsessed by the fact that you are working again the next day. And sometimes you get the blues.

The dance commonly begins about the middle of the afternoon or later, after sundown. When it begins in the afternoon, there is always an intermission of an hour or two for supper. The preliminary painting and dressing is usually the work of about two hours.

I grew up Presbyterian, just a basic Protestant upbringing. There were years in my life when I would go to church every Sunday and to Sunday school. Then I just phased out of it.

I never thought I'd have to give you-a former Sunday School teacher-a lecture on ethics." "Former Sunday School teachers don't go around without their underwear." "You show me where it says that in the Bible.

The man who has nothing more than a kind of Sunday religion -- whose Christianity is like his Sunday clothes put on once a week, and then laid aside -- such a man cannot, of course, be expected to care about growth in grace.

You've got to open on a Sunday, but at the end of the day, you've just lost a lot of money by opening on the Sunday, so it's very, very difficult to make money when you're paying unskilled people $42 per hour.

Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.

The key to forming good habits is to make them part of your 'rituals.' I have a morning ritual, afternoon ritual, and Sunday ritual. It's one way to bundle good habits into regular times that you set aside to prepare yourself for the life you want. Rituals help you form habits.

We had poverty in our house. Even on the council estate I knew I was one of the poorer kids. I used to go round my friends houses on a Sunday to get their Sunday dinner because my mum couldn't cook either so I used to love going round my mates and say: 'Can you ask your Mum if I can come in for Sunday dinner?'

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.

The sense of it may come with watching a flock of cedar waxwings eating wild grapes in the top of the woods on a November afternoon. Everything they do is leisurely. They pick the grapes with a curious deliberation, comb their feathers, converse in high windy whistles. Now and then one will fly out and back in a sort of dancing flight full of whimsical flutters and turns. They are like farmers loafing in their own fields on Sunday. Though they have no Sundays, their days are full of sabbaths.

All my life I have hated and despised alto! ... From a boy it has affected me very strangely. That's why I hate Sunday. People will sing alto on Sunday that would never dream of singing it any other time.

John Kerry fell off of his bicycle over the weekend. He went for a Sunday afternoon ride, fell off in front of the news media. Luckily, his hair broke the fall so it's not as serious. ... Thankfully, Senator Kerry was not seriously injured. In fact, when the police arrived, Kerry was well enough to give conflicting reports to the officers about what happened.

I must begin by telling you that I do not like to preach on Reformation Sunday. Actually, I have to put it more strongly than that. I do not like Reformation Sunday, period.

I write from seven to about noon. I used to try to write longer, but I read and I found that I was always getting myself tired by working in the afternoon and then I was just throwing out what I wrote in the afternoon, so writing then was counterproductive.

Every now and then, they ask me to come in and improvise with Stanley Tucci for an afternoon. They fly me off to America, I improvise for an afternoon - it's not the hardest, most taxing job.

I mean in the South African case, many of those who were part of death squads would have been respectable members of their white community, people who went to church on Sunday, every Sunday.

I remember writing Sunday Morning' and Gwen wasn't feeling well that day and I had an acoustic guitar and I started singing, Somebody is feeling quite ill ' and that became Sunday Morning.'

In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.

The library was home away from home to my mom, and my family. We had spent every Sunday afternoon there since I was a little boy, wandering around the stacks, pulling out every book with a picture of a pirate ship, a knight, a soldier, or an astronaut. My mom used to say, "This is my church, Ethan. This is how we keep the Sabbath holy in our family.

But they never last, the golden days. And it can be sad, the sun in the afternoon, can't it? Yes, it can be sad, the afternoon sun, sad and frightening.

I wear green on Sunday because it's my mom's favorite color, but green goes pretty well on Sunday at the Masters, too.

I've only been a mom for not even two years yet, so I haven't had much of a chance. But boy do I wish I could have lunch with my girlfriends in the middle of the afternoon. I don't remember the last time I had lunch in the afternoon with my girlfriends.