Jenny kissed me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in, Time you thief, who love to get, Sweets into your list, you put in, Say you’re weary, say you’re sad, Say that health and wealth have missed me, Say I’m growing old, but add Jenny kissed me.
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Colors are the smiles of nature.
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Wounded vanity knows when it is mortally hurt and limps off the field, piteous, all disguises thrown away. But pride carries its banner to the last and fast as it is driven from one field unfurls it in another, never admitting that there is a shade less honor in the second field than in the first, or in the third than in the second.
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Oh, write of me, not Died in bitter pains, but Emigrated to another star!
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The laughing queen that caught the world's great hands.
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Whenever evil befalls us, we ought to ask ourselves, after the first suffering, how we can turn it into good. So shall we take occasion, from one bitter root, to raise perhaps many flowers.
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Their element is to attack, to track, to hunt, and to destroy the enemy. Only in this way can the eager and skillful fighter pilot display his ability. Tie him to a narrow and confined task, rob him of his initiative, and you take away from him the best and most valuable qualities he posses: aggressive spirit, joy of action, and the passion of the hunter.
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The person who can be only serious or only cheerful, is but half a man.
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If you ever have to support a flagging conversation, introduce the topic of eating.
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Night's deepest gloom is but a calm; that soothes the weary mind: The labored days restoring balm; the comfort of mankind.
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Sympathizing and selfish people are alike, both given to tears.
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They accused [Juan] without finding out the truth. It's a witch hunt.
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Now you will recieve us! We do not ask for your poor or your hungry. We do not want your tired and sick. It is your corrupt we claim! It is your evil that will be sought by us. With every breath we shall hunt them down. Each day we will spill their blood, 'till it rains down from the skies! Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal. These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace! These are not polite suggestions. These are codes of behavior and those of you that ignore them will pay the dearest cost! There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth, not to push the bounds and cross over, into true corruption, into our domain. For if you do, one day you will look behind you and you will see we three and on that day YOU WILL REAP IT! And will send you to whatever god you wish.
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It is books that teach us to refine our pleasures when young, and to recall them with satisfaction when we are old.
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As soon as I began, it seemed impossible to write fast enough - I wrote faster than I would write a letter - two thousand to three thousand words in a morning, and I cannot help it.
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Music is the medicine of the breaking heart.
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You can always draw as well as you know how to. I flatter myself that I feel more than I express on canvas; but I know that is not so.
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In communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of activity but each can become accomplished in any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes it possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the evening, criticize after dinner, just as I have a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, shepherd or critic.
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There are sadistic scientists who hurry to hunt down errors instead of establishing the truth.
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If you are ever at a loss to support a flagging conversation, introduce the subject of eating.
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My effort has been to narrate exposes of the leather trade in India and the meat industry in the US and even spearhead a petition drive against the annual seal hunt in Canada where baby seals are beaten bloody on ice for their fur. I have used my celeb status to fire off letters, pose for posters and motivated designers to create animal friendly fashions and even urged advertisers to stop using unwilling animal actors to sell products. And I will continue to work for the cause, whatever it takes.'
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Until lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter.
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If I'm lucky enough to get to heaven I might find that God is a beaver or a burro. What a sad world it would be if only the two-legged were here. We have established a Let's Hunt The Hunters Club.. and we have certain rules: a. we're only doing it for their good.. to cull the herd b. we don't interfere with their mating season in parked cars c. we don't encourage anyone to mount a hunter on the hood d. in wall mounting you may include the cap and the jacket.
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Why can you not stop saying what is in yours? Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying that I sometimes cannot think clearly or do my work properly? What gain can rise of my telling you the only time I feel fear as others do is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety before all others. And yes, I will dance with you on our wedding night.
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Though most of us don't hunt, our eyes are still the great monopolists of our senses. To taste or touch your enemy or your food, you have to be unnervingly close to it. To smell or hear it, you can risk being further off. But vision can rush through the fields and up the mountains, travel across time, country, and parsecs of outer space, and collect bushel baskets of information as it goes. Animals that hear high frequencies better than we do
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You need to hunt something that can shoot back at you to really classify yourself as a hunter. You need to understand the feeling of what it's like to go into the field and know your opposition can take you out. Not just go out there and shoot Bambi.
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The nearest the modern general or admiral comes to a small-arms encounter of any sort is at a duck hunt in the company of corporation executives at the retreat of Continental Motors, Inc.
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There is no doubt, that man is not built to be a carnivorous animal. … What a sweet, pleasing and innocent sight is the spectacle of a table served that way and what a difference to a make up of fuming animal meat, slaughtered and dead! Man in no way has the constitution of a carnivorous being. Hunt and voracity are unnatural to him. Man has neither the sharp pointed teeth or claws to slaughter his prey. On the contrary his hands are made to pick fruits, berries and vegetables and teeth appropriate to chew them
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If this weren't Ray Hunt, if this were anybody else the emotions wouldn't be there,
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O momentary grace of mortal men, Which we more hunt for than the grace of God!
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