Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of shores, Before him only shorless seas. The good Mate said, Now we must pray, For lo! the very stars are gone. Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say? Why say, 'Sail on! sail on! and on! My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak! The stout Mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wavewashed his swarthy cheek. What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn? Why, you shall say at break of day, 'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!' They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the Mate; This mad sea shows its teeth tonight. He curls his lip, he lies in wait, With lifted teeth, as if to bite! Brave Admiral, say but one good word; What shall we do when hope is gone? The words leapt like a leaping sword; Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on! Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck And peered through darkness. Ah! that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck -- A light! A light! A light! A light! It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. He gained a world; he gave that world Its greatest lesson: On! sail on!
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Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
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Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. 'Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!' cries she With silent lips. 'Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!'
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Mutual forgiveness of each vice. Such are the Gates of Paradise.
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The wind blows out of the gates of the day, The wind blows over the lonely of heart, And the lonely of heart is withered away
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Railway termini are our gates to the glorious and the unknown. Through them we pass out into adventure and sunshine, to them, alas! we return.
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Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.
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At a recent computer expo (COMDEX), Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and stated, 'If GM had kept up with the technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon.'
In response to Bill's comments, General Motors issued a press release stating: If GM had developed technology like Microsoft, we would all be driving cars with the following characteristics:
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America is the land of the second chance - and when the gates of the prison open, the path ahead should lead to a better life.
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Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
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There's freedom at thy gates and rest For Earth's downtrodden and oppressed,
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Human life, old and young, takes place between hope and remembrance. The young man sees all the gates to his desires open, and the old man rem...
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I won't believe in Heaven and Hell, No saints, no sinners, no devil as well. No pearly gates, no thorny crown, You're always letting us humans down. The wars you bring, the babes you drown, Those lost at sea and never found. And it's the same the whole world round. The hurt I see helps to compound, that the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Is just somebody's unholy hoax, And if you're up there you'll perceive, That my heart's here upon my sleeve. If there's one thing I don't believe in...
It's you, Dear God.
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If begging should unfortunately be thy lot, knock at the large gates only.
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The world could not long ignore a holy church. The church is not despised because it is holy: it is despised because it is not holy enough. There is not enough difference between the people inside the church and those outside to be impressive. A church in which saints were as common as now they are rare would convict the world, if only by contrast. Sanctity cannot be ignored. Even a little bit is potent. So far from the gates of hell prevailing against it, it hammers on their triple steel.
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Before the gates of excellence the high gods have placed sweat long is the road thereto and rough and steep at first but when the heights are reached, then there is ease, though grievously hard in the winning.
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It is easy to go down into Hell night and day, the gates of dark Death stand wide but to climb back again, to retrace one's steps to the upper air - there's the rub, the task.
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If we are trespassing, so were the American Soldiers who broke down the gates of Hitler's death camps; If we are thieves, so were the members of the Underground Railroad who freed the slaves of the South; and if we are vandals, so were those who destroyed forever the gas chambers of Buchenwald and Auschwitz.
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The Jew is neither a newcomer nor an alien in this country or on this continent; his Americanism is as original and ancient as that of any race or people with the exception of the American Indian and other aborigines. He came in the caravels of Columbus, and he knocked at the gates of New Amsterdam only thirty-five years after the Pilgrim Fathers stepped ashore on Plymouth Rock.
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Through the gates that stand between the mortal world and the immortal Realm of Chaos are now closed to me, still I would rather die having glimpsed eternity than never to have stirred the cold furrow of mortal life.
I embrace death without regret as I embraced life without fear.
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The idea that Bill Gates has appeared like a knight in shining armour to lead all customers out of a mire of technological chaos neatly ignores the fact that it was he, by peddling second-rate technology, who led them into it in the first place.
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Before the gates of excellence the high gods have placed sweat; long is the road thereto and rough and steep at first; but when the heights are reached, then there is ease, though grievously hard in the winning.
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Even a band of angels can turn ugly and start looting if enough angels are unemployed and hanging around the Pearly Gates convinced that all the succubi own all the liquor stores in Heaven.
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Dreams surely are difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those which pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those which issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them.
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The only credential the City (NY) asked was the boldness to dream. For those who did, it unlocked its gates and its treasures, Not caring who they were or where they came from.
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Hold a book in your hand and you're a pilgrim at the gates of a new city.
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640K ought to be enough for anybody.
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The Sufis advise us to speak only after our words have managed to pass through three gates. At the first gate we ask ourselves, Are these words true? If so, we let them pass on; if not, back they go. At the second gate we ask, Are they necessary? At the last gate we ask, Are they kind?
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Micah 5:6:
Who will rule the land of Assyria with the sword, the land of Nimrod with drawn sword. He will deliver us from the Assyrians when they invade our land and march into our borders.
(NIV)
And they shall rule and waste the land of Assyria with the sword and the land of Nimrod within her [Assyria's own] gates. Thus shall He [the Messiah] deliver us from the Assyrian [representing the opposing powers] when he comes into our land and when he treads on our borders.
(AMP)
And they shall waste the land of Assyria with the sword, and the land of Nimrod in the entrances thereof: thus shall he deliver us from the Assyrian, when he cometh into our land, and when he treadeth within our borders.
(KJV)
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They say foul beings of Old Times still lurk In dark forgotten corners of the world, And Gates still gape to loose, on certain nights, Shapes pent in Hell.
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