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Quote by Sarah Smiley
And this prime hour of fragrance is the hour so many miss upon bed

And this prime hour of fragrance is the hour so many miss upon beds of sloth, never half knowing what a beautiful, marvellous world is around them. Not all the long hours of day can possibly bring back again the charm and blessedness of this, either to the body or to the soul. – Sarah Smiley

Other quotes by Sarah Smiley

What a benediction is this fragrance of the early morning! The vernal grass fills the whole atmosphere as with a shower of sweetness. – Sarah Smiley

Category:
Morning
Author
Sarah Smiley
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It is in the early morning hour that the unseen is seen, and that the far-off beauty and glory, vanquishing all their vagueness, move down upon us till they stand clear as crystal close over against the soul. – Sarah Smiley

Category:
Morning
Author
Sarah Smiley
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Other Quotes from
Morning
category

Luxury is an ancient notion. There was once a Chinese mandarin who had himself wakened three times every morning simply for the pleasure of being told it was not yet time to get up. – Argosy

Category:
Morning

Ice skating is very difficult. It takes a lot of discipline and a lot of hard work. Its fun, but you are there on the ice every morning freezing and trying to do these moves and these tricks. – Michelle Trachtenberg

Category:
Morning

And now the momentous day, a day to be forever remembered in the annals of the country, arrived. Early in the morning on the 1st of July the conflict began. – Edward Everett

Category:
Morning

When I wake up on a Monday morning and I realise I dont have to go and work at the civil service, I really think Ive won. – Paul Merton

Category:
Morning

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I worked with my dad for 15 years. I apprenticed under him and decided I wanted to become an architect. So I went to college for it and then the acting bug got me. – Patrick Duffy

Category:
dad

Coward: One who, in a perilous emergency, thinks with his legs. – Ambrose Bierce

Category:
Courage
[H]e ran, he stopped—he dipped his glowing face into the cloud of blossoming bushes, and would fain lose himself in the humming world between the leaves; he pressed the scratched face into the deep, cooling grass, and hung delirious on the breast of the immortal mother of Spring. – Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, Hesperus, or Forty-Five Dog-Post-Days: A Biography,

Category:
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Mother, the ribbons of your love are woven around my heart. – Author Unknown

Category:
Mothers