True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
Volez de vos propres ailes=--Do for yourself (
I buoyed me on the wings of dream, Above the world of sense; I set my thought to sound the scheme, And fathom the Immense; I tuned my spirit as a lute To catch wind-music wandering mute. Yet came there never voice nor sign; But through my being stole Sense of a Universe divine, And knowledge of a soul Perfected in the joy of things, The star, the flower, the bird that sings. Nor I am more, nor less, than these; All are one brotherhood; I and all creatures, plants, and trees, The living limbs of God; And in an hour, as this, divine, I feel the vast pulse throb in mine.
We cannot be losers by trusting God, for He is honored by faith, and most honored when faith discerns His love and truth behind a thick cloud of His ways and providence. Happy those who are thus tried! Let us only be clear of unbelief and a guilty conscience. We shall hide ourselves in the rock and pavilion of the Lord, sheltered beneath the wings of everlasting love till all calamities be overpast.--_Selected._
The lively phraseology of Montesquieu was the result of long meditation. His words, as light as wings, bear on them grave reflections.--_Joubert._
Joys are our wings, sorrows are our spurs.
Sincerity gives wings to power.= (?)
And there 's a lust in man no charm can tame Of loudly publishing our neighbour's shame; On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, While virtuous actions are but born and die.
Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place (Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism, Sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, Drops his blue-fring'd lids, and holds them close, And hooting at the glorious sun in heaven Cries out, "Where is it?"
There is nothing holier in this life of ours than the first consciousness of love, the first fluttering of its silken wings.
Men sigh for the wings of a dove, that they may fly away and be at Rest. But flying away will not help us. "The Kingdom of God is WITHIN YOU." We aspire to the top to look for Rest; it lies at the bottom. Water rests only when it gets to the lowest place. So do men. Hence, be lowly. Pax Vobiscum, p. 30.
"On wings of winds came flying all abroad."
O'er bog or steep, through strait, rough, dense, or rare, With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues his way, And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies.
Yet those who wait for the LORD will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired.
Pedibus timor addidit alas=--Fear gave wings to his feet.
Women who have lost their faith / Are angels who have lost their wings.
A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is omnipresent, like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, duty performed or duty violated is still with us, for our happiness or our misery. If we say the darkness shall cover us, in the darkness as in the light our obligations are yet with us.
they realized that all the published data was wrong—“little better than guesswork”—they had also discovered what knowledge was needed to design wings that would fly.
He could not be captured, He could not be bought, His running was rhythm, His standing was thought; With one eye on sorrow And one eye on mirth, He galloped in heaven And gambolled on earth. And only the poet With wings to his brain Can mount him and ride him Without any rein, The stallion of heaven, The steed of the skies, The horse of the singer Who sings as he flies.
You will hear people say that poverty is the best spur to the artist. They have never felt the iron of it in their flesh. They do not know how mean it makes you. It exposes you to endless humiliation, it cuts your wings, it eats into your soul like a cancer. It is not wealth one asks for, but just enough to preserve one's dignity, to work unhampered, to be generous, frank and independent. I pity with all my heart the artist, whether he writes or paints, who is entirely dependent for subsistence upon his art.
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O grave! where is thy victory? O death! where is thy sting?
Joys, tender and true, / Yet all with wings.
We have not wings, we cannot soar; / But we have feet to scale and climb / By slow degrees, by more and more, / The cloudy summits of our time.
No si puo volar senza ale=--He would fain fly, but he wants wings.
If you will go to the banks of a little stream, and watch the flies that come to bathe in it, you will notice that, while they plunge their _bodies_ into the water, they keep their _wings_ high out of the water; and, after swimming about a little while, they fly away with their wings unwet through the sunny air. Now, that is the lesson for us. Here we are immersed in the cares and business of the world; but let us keep the wings of our soul, our faith and our love, out of the world, that, with these unclogged, we may be ready to take our flight to heaven.--_J. Inglis._
Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything. Plato
Who soars too near the sun with golden wings melts them.
She what was honour knew, And with obsequious majesty approv'd My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven And happy constellations on that hour Shed their selectest influence; the earth Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill; Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.
He who has imagination without learning has wings without feet.
Back to thy punishment, False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings.
Friendship is love without its wings.
Poetry is enthusiasm with wings of fire, it is the angel of high thoughts, that inspires us with the power of sacrifice.--_Mazzini._
The _Veda_ alone of all works I know treats of a genesis of God-consciousness, compared to which the Theogony of Hesiod is like a worn-out creature. We see it grow slowly and gradually with all its contradictions, its sudden terrors, its amazements, and its triumphs. As God reveals His Being in nature in her order, her indestructibility, in the eternal victory of light over darkness, of spring over winter, in the eternally returning course of the sun and the stars, so man has gradually spelt out of nature the Being of God, and after trying a thousand names for God in vain, we find Him in the _Veda_ already saying: 'They call him Indra, Mitra, Varuna; then they call him the Heavenly, the bird with beautiful wings; that which is One they call in various ways.'... The belief in Immortality is only the other side, as it were, of the God-consciousness, and both are originally natural to the Aryan race.
Restat iter c?lo: c?lo tentabimus ire; / Da veniam c?pto, Jupiter alte, meo=--There remains a way through the heavens; through the heavens we will attempt to go. High Jupiter, pardon my bold design. _Ovid, in the name of D?dalus when he escaped from the labyrinth on wings._
Meme quand l'oiseau marche, on sent qu'il a des ailes=--Even when a bird walks, we may see that it has wings.
To some any attempt to trace back the name and concept of Jehovah to the same hidden sources from which other nations derived their first intimation of deity may seem almost sacrilegious. They forget the difference between the human concept of the Deity and the Deity itself, which is beyond the reach of all human concepts. But the historian reads deeper lessons in the growth of these human concepts, as they spring up everywhere in the minds of men who have been seekers after truth--seeking the Lord if haply they might feel after Him and find Him--and when he can show the slow but healthy growth of the noblest and sublimest thoughts out of small and apparently insignificant beginnings, he rejoices as the labourer rejoices over his golden harvest; nay, he often wonders what is more truly wonderful, the butterfly that soars up to heaven on its silvery wings, or the grub that hides within its mean chrysalis such marvellous possibilities.
The shafts formed in the shoulders of the wings of birds have been so devised by ingenious nature {178} as to occasion a convenient pliancy in the direct impetus which often occurs in the swift flight of birds, since she found it more practical to bend a small part of the wing in the direct flight than the whole of it.
Ach! zu des Geistes Flugeln, wird so leicht kein korperlicher Flugel sich gesellen=--Alas! no fleshly pinion will so easily keep pace with the wings of the spirit.
I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you're going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.
God gave thy soul brave wings; put not those feathers / Into a bed to sleep out all ill weathers.
When one that holds communion with the skies Has fill'd his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, 'T is e'en as if an angel shook his wings.
On eagles' wings immortal scandals fly, / While virtuous actions are but born to die.
Though I am young, I scorn to flit On the wings of borrowed wit.
And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air.
How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darkness till it smil'd!
Reflection dissolves reverie and burns her delicate wings.
Be thou like the bird perched upon some frail thing, although he feels the branch bending beneath him, yet loudly sings, knowing full well that he has wings.--_Mme. de Gasparin._
How at heaven's gates she claps her wings, The morne not waking til she sings.
Hail the heaven-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all he brings, Risen with healing in his wings. Mild he lays his glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give us second birth. Hark! the herald angels sing, "Glory to the new born King!"
Angels bend down their wings to a seeker of knowledge.
He who has imagination without learning has wings and no feet.--_Joubert._
Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where with her best nurse Contemplation She plumes her feathers and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all-to ruffled, and sometimes impair'd. He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' th' centre and enjoy bright day; But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the midday sun.
Alis volat propriis=--He flies with his own wings.
Find mankind where thou wilt, thou findest it in living movement, in progress faster or slower; the ph?nix soars aloft, hovers with outstretched wings, filling earth with her music; or, as now, she sinks, and with spheral swan-song immolates herself in flame, that she may soar the higher and sing the clearer.
Gold has wings which carry everywhere except to heaven.
The traveller without observation is a bird without wings.
Blest paper-credit! last and best supply! That lends corruption lighter wings to fly.
Solitude, the safeguard of mediocrity, is to genius the stern friend, the cold, obscure shelter where moult the wings that will bear it farther than suns and stars. He who would inspire and lead his race must be defended from travelling with the souls of other men, from living, breathing, reading, and writing in the daily time-worn yoke of their opinions.
It is just those who grope with the mole and cling with the bat who are vainest of their sight and of their wings.
This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. This storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.
If we listened to our intellect we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go in business because we'd be cynical: "It's gonna go wrong." Or "She's going to hurt me." Or,"I've had a couple of bad love affairs, so therefore . . ." Well, that's nonsense. You're going to miss life. You've got to jump off the cliff all the time and build your wings on the way down.
True hope is swift, and flies with swallow's wings; / Kings it makes gods, and meaner creatures kings.
All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence. Yet I believe you, messengers. There, where the world is turned inside out, a heavy fabric embroidered with stars and beasts, you stroll, inspecting the trustworthy seams.
Il ne faut pas voler avant que d'avoir des ailes=--One must not fly before he develops wings.
Keep me as the apple of the eye, hide me under the shadow of thy wings.
The World is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil; It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod? Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod. And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep down things; And though the last lights off the black West went Oh morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs — Because the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with the warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
I can enjoy her while she 's kind; But when she dances in the wind, And shakes the wings and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away.
Rogner les ailes a quelqu'un=--To clip one's wings.
~Associates.~--Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man maketh his train longer, he makes his wings shorter.--_Bacon._
The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.
There are cloudy moments when one asks himself if men do not deserve all the disasters into which they rush! No — I recover myself — they do not deserve them. But we, instead of saying "I wish" must say "I will." And what we will, we must will to build it, with order, with method, beginning at the beginning, when once we have been as far as that beginning. We must not only open our eyes, but our arms, our wings.
But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings.
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, / You heavenly guards.
Make not thy tail broader than thy wings.
Riches take wings, comforts vanish, hope withers away, but love stays with us. Love is God.
Misfortunes come on wings and depart on foot.
What! fly from love? vain hope: there's no retreat, / When he has wings and I have only feet.
Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the face I wear. For I wear a thousand masks, masks that I am afraid to take off and none of them are me. Pretending is an art that's second nature with me, but don't be fooled. For God's sake don't be fooled. I give the impression that I am secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game; that the waters are calm and I am in command, and that I need no one. But don't believe me, please. My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing 'Neath this lies no complacence. Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear of being exposed. That is why I frantically create a mask to hide behind; a nonchalant, sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation. My only salvation. And I know it. That is, if it is followed by acceptance, if it is followed by love. It is the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I am worth something. But, I don't tell you this. I don't dare. I am afraid to. I am afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I am afraid you will think less of me, that you will laugh at me, and that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate game, with a facade of assurance without, and a trembling child within. And so begins the parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter to you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is everything, of what is crying within me; So when I am going through my routine do not be fooled by what I am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I am not saying. What I would like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but I can't say. I dislike hiding, Honestly! I dislike the superficial game I am playing, the phony game. I would really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me, but you have got to help me. You have got to hold out your hand, even when that is the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes that blank stare of breathing death. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you try to understand and because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding, you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be the creator of the person that is me if you choose to. Please choose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, you alone can remove my mask. You alone can release me from my shadowworld of panic and uncertainty; From my lonely person. Do not pass me by. Please... do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you; a long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder I strike back. I fight against the very thing I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than walls, and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet.
As a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings.
Curse on all laws but those which love has made! Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
There is always some levity in excellent minds; they have wings to rise and also to stray.
First must the dead letter of religion own itself dead, and drop piecemeal into dust, if the living spirit of religion, freed from its charnel-house, is to arise in us, new-born of heaven, and with new healing under its wings.
Tears could not be equal, if I wept diamonds from the skies,” Jenks whispered, empty and bereft. “My word silent, though I should howl. Muffled by death, my wings can’t lift me high enough to find you. I feel you within. Unaware of my pain. Not knowing why I mourn.” He lifted his eyes to mine, a glimmer of tears showing. “And why I breathe alone.
You cannot detain the eagle in the forest. You may gather around him a chorus of the choicest birds; you may give him a perch on the goodliest pine; you may charge winged messengers to bring him choicest dainties; but he will spurn them all. Spreading his lordly wings, and with his eye on the Alpine cliff, he will soar away to his own ancestral halls amid the munitions of rocks and the wild music of tempest and waterfall.
Fear sometimes adds wings to the heels, and sometimes nails them to the ground and fetters them from moving.
None but a Goethe, at the sun of earthly happiness, can keep his Ph?nix wings unsinged.
If we will disbelieve everything because we cannot certainly know all things, we shall do much as wisely as he who would not use his legs, but sit still and perish because he had no wings.
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.
I knew the Spring was come. I knew it even Better than all by this, that through my chase In bush and stone and hill and sea and heaven I seem'd to see and follow still your face. Your face my quarry was. For it I rode, My horse a thing of wings, myself a god.
They reckon ill who leave me out; When me they fly, I am the wings; I am the doubter and the doubt, And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea.
I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings Coming down is the hardest thing.
Kindness has resistless charms; / All things else but weakly move; / Fiercest anger it disarms, / And clips the wings of flying love.
Fame is the inheritance not of the dead, but of the living. It is we who look back with lofty pride to the great names of antiquity, who drink of that flood of glory as of a river, and refresh our wings in it for future flight.
You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life?
Riches certainly make themselves wings.
He would fain fly, but wants wings.
Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
How long can men thrive between walls of brick, walking on asphalt pavements, breathing the fumes of coal and of oil, growing, working, dying, with hardly a thought of wind, and sky, and fields of grain, seeing only machine-made beauty, the mineral-like quality of life. This is our modern danger — one of the waxen wings of flight. It may cause our civilization to fall unless we act quickly to counteract it, unless we realize that human character is more important than efficiency, that education consists of more than the mere accumulation of knowledge.
Purity and simplicity are the two wings with which man soars above the earth and all temporary nature. Simplicity is in the intention, purity in the affection; simplicity turns to God; purity unites with and enjoys Him.
The dead letter of religion must own itself dead, and drop piecemeal into dust, if the living spirit of religion, freed from its charnel-house, is to arise on us, new born of Heaven, and with new healing under its wings.
Philosophy will clip an angel's wings.= _Keats._ [Greek: phobou to geras, ou gar erchetai monon]--Fear old age, for it does not come alone.
His imagination resembled the wings of an ostrich. It enabled him to run, though not to soar.
All creatures that have wings can escape from every snare that is set for them, if only they will fly high enough; and the soul that uses its wings can always find a sure "way to escape" from all that can hurt or trouble it.--_Smith._
The bird let loose in Eastern skies, Returning fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam; But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
The man who has imagination without learning has wings without feet.
L'amitie est l'amour sans ailes=--Friendship is love without wings,
They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rainbow wings, If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo sings, It matters not the name, the land; my joy in all the gods abides: Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and hides.
Love, free as air, at sight of human ties, / Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.