Evening Quote by Edmund Spenser Download Open image “Man's wretched state, That floures so fresh at morne, and fades at evening late.” — Edmund Spenser ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 2.4 out of 5 (7 ratings) Copy quoteShare Evening Fades Late Men States Wretched
“The daylight changes the aspect of misery to us, as of everything else. In the night it presses on our imagination—the forms it takes… — George Eliot Copy Share Image
“...the vulgarity of an environment as bleakly desolate as the neon lights of the factory where the men go each morning, like sinners returning… — Muriel Barbery Copy Share Image
“Bright morning comes; the bloody-fingered dawn with zealous light sets seas of air ablaze and bends to earth another false beginning. My eyes open… — Iain Banks Copy Share Image
“They grew some of their own vegetables, but Semple was never in eighteen years allowed out into the truck gardens. Instead, he watched out the north window of the violent ward through the thick cyclone mesh and felt himself out there, going down the rows of corn, cutting suckers or tugging up the dark-leafed weeds, feeling the strain low in… — Don Carpenter Copy Share
“The reign of tears is over,” proclaimed evangelist Billy Sunday in Virginia, during a mock funeral for John Barelycorn, a fictional character and the personification of whisky and beer. “The slums will soon be only a memory. We will turn our prisons into factories and our jails into storehouses and corncribs. Men will walk upright now, women will smile, and… — Charles River Editors Copy Share
“If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and… — John Piper Copy Share Image
“The vilest deeds like poison weeds, Bloom well in prison-air; It is only what is good in Man That wastes and withers there: Pale… — Oscar Wilde Copy Share Image
“November Graveyard (1956) The scene stands stubborn: skinflint trees Hoard last year's leaves, won't mourn, wear sackcloth, or turn To elegiac dryads, and dour grass Guards the hard-hearted emerald of its grassiness However the grandiloquent mind may scorn Such poverty. No dead men's cries Flower forget-me-nots between the stones Paving this grave ground. Here's honest rot To unpick the heart,… — Sylvia Plath Copy Share
“O why doe wretched men so much desire, To draw their dayes vnto the vtmost date, And doe not rather wish them soone expire, Knowing the miserie of their estate, And thousand perills which them still awate, Tossing them like a boate amid the mayne, That euery houre they knocke at deathes gate? And he that happie seemes and least… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share
Whiles in the early Winter eve We pass amid the gathering night Some homestead that we had to leave Years past; and see its candles bright Shine in the room beside the door Where we were merry years agone But now must never enter more, As still the dark road drives us on. E'en so the world of men may… — William Morris Copy Share
Man preys on man; and you mourn for the idle tapestry that decorated a gothic pillar, and the dronish bell that summoned the fat priest to prayer. You mourn for the empty pageant of a name, when slavery flaps her wing, ... Why is our fancy to be appalled by terrific perspectives of a hell beyond the grave? - Hell… — Mary Wollstonecraft Copy Share
“All this world's glory seemeth vain to me, And all their shows but shadows, saving she.” — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
The merry cuckow, messenger of Spring, His trumpet shrill hath thrice already sounded. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Much can they praise the trees so straight and high, The sailing pine,the cedar proud and tall, The vine-prop elm, the poplar never dry,… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“The whiles some one did chaunt this louely lay; Ah see, who so faire thing doest faine to see, In springing flowre the image… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Make haste therefore, sweet love, whilst it is prime, For none can call again the passed time. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Good is no good, but if it be spend, God giveth good for none other end. — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“There is nothing lost, but may be found, if sought. (No hay nada perdido, que no pueda encontrarse, si se lo busca)” — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
“It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore: For some, that hath abundance at his… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Sweet breathing Zephyrus did softly play, A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
Once ye made up yer mind to do somethin', 'tis better t'stumble o'er the small hillock of jump-ahead than t'bash yer head on the… — Karen Hawkins Copy Share Image
The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it. — Kazuo Ishiguro Copy Share Image
I love to work in football, so for me it's not work. I'm not here first in the morning and last in the evening… — Daniel Farke Copy Share Image
Like the water of a deep stream, love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst, we… — Wendell Berry Copy Share Image
The sun, a red wheel, was sinking slowly in the west. Besides being spectacularly beautiful, the early-summer sunset was exceedingly soft and gentle: black… — Mo Yan Copy Share Image
It is easy enough to say that man is immortal simply because he will endure: that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
By the time they were pulling into the parking lot of the A&P, the mood was fading, the moment gone. Amy could feel it… — Elizabeth Strout Copy Share Image
When I was very young my mother sang to me at bedtime and my dad would often play the banjo or fiddle in the… — Rory Block Copy Share Image
So great is the economy of nature, that most flowers which are fertilised by crepuscular or nocturnal insects emit their odour chiefly or exclusively… — Charles Darwin Copy Share Image
I don’t know, I don’t know that I’m missing anything. I just think too much sometimes. Sometimes I’m even happy because I’m so engaged… — Jeff Buckley Copy Share Image
What truly gives me joy is when I get a letter from a young woman who says they saw a programme, then read a… — Lucy Worsley Copy Share Image
...nothing wonderful lasted forever. Joy was as fleeting as a shooting star that crossed the evening sky, ready to blink out at any moment. — Nicholas Sparks Copy Share Image
