sun

Early morning: set off at dawn. Travel round in front of the sun, steal a day's march on him. Keep it up for ever never grow a day older technically.

Clever and civilized men will not stay homeLeave your homeland and explore foreign fieldsGo out! You shall find replacement for those you have leftGive your all, the sweetness of life will be tasted after the struggleI have seen that standing water stagnatesIf it flows, it is pure, if it does not, it will become murkyIf the lion doesn__ leave his den, he will not eatIf the arrow does not leave the bow, it will not strikeIf the sun stands still in its orbitMan will tire of itGold dust merely soil before excavatedAloewood is just ordinary wood if in the forestTravel by Imam Syafii

If you can't see the sun then too many things stand in your way. Sometimes, you have to climb to the top of all your fears to see any horizon, such is life. God needs to you rise higher before you will ever "see" something different.

Even in the cloudy sky, the sun never forgets to rise.

Make a plural hey while the singular sun is up there. Not just the hey, but the best hey. Excellence should be your priority!

Never be too angry beyond repairs. Anger is nothing good to be part of your tributes. Are you angry with someone? The sun is sinking, just drop it now.

True leaders are like statues, whether it rains or it shines, they never bend their necks to look backwards! They never run away from challenges!

The sun was good. The men of the llano were men of the sun. The men of the farms along the river were men of the moon. But we were all children of the white sun.

Live in the shadow of the moon until you're bright enough to give birth to your own suns.

When Small men begin to cast big shadows, it means that the sun is about to set.

Some friends are like sunny days, with false flames, oozing from afar, coming near without a dime.

Half asleep and half awake, I became lost in a deep span of my version of a perfect world. A place I wanted so desperately to reach, but would never find except from within the catacombs of my mind.A place where the sun rose in the west and set in the east, where the mountains bowed to the wind like trees, and the rain sprinkled up from the ground below and onto the clouds above. A place where no one hurt or lost, or felt any tinge of desperation. A place where heartbeats were the only words needed, and music floated on the wind like dust.A place where no place was home. Where a single person could be the only sustenance needed to survive. A place where there were no yesterdays or todays, only tomorrows. A place for me to find solace, an escape from the real world I was forced to live in.

Sea-foam And coral! Oh, I'll Climb the great pasture rocks And dream me mermaid in the sun's Gold flood.

I rise from the moist crevice of thought, I beat on the shores of her holy body, I fall from the sky in silver sheets of sadness. Rise onto me my precious sun.

Watching someone you love_ die? There are no words for how broken that makes a person. It__ like waking up from a bad dream only to find out that it__ you reality, it__ like watching sunlight fade from the sky, like watching death suck the one you love dry, and being powerless to stop it. You may as well try to stop the waves from rolling in, or the sun from rising.In the end, the waves will roll, the sun will set, and death will come. The only thing you have a choice in? How you deal with it_when it does.

A poor old Widow in her weedsSowed her garden with wild-flower seeds;Not too shallow, and not too deep,And down came April -- drip -- drip -- drip.Up shone May, like gold, and soonGreen as an arbour grew leafy June.And now all summer she sits and sewsWhere willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows,Teasle and pansy, meadowsweet,Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit;Brown bee orchis, and Peals of Bells;Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells;Like Oberon's meadows her garden isDrowsy from dawn to dusk with bees.Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs,And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes;And all she has is all she needs --A poor Old Widow in her weeds.

At the edge you will always remember me, at the edge you will last be remembered, where sanity and insanity come together, for the time, then separates. Like leaves on October trees, that color the world, but for a moment, then leave. At the edge, where life losses its edginess, and thoughts we will become one, someday. At the edge the sun drops, the ring falls, and senses of raindrops climb upwards to the gray sky.

You shine brighter than the sun""But even the sun goes away every night""But it is hte sun's absence that makes us feel its power. We know the loss, the beauty and the life that the moon can't replace. That is why we hang on to each day we are given.