Quotes & Sayings About Gud Night

Formerly these harsh cells in which the discipline of the prison leaves the condemned to himself were composed of four stone walls, a ceiling of stone, a pavement of tiles, a camp bed, a grated air-hole, a double iron door, and were called "dungeons" ; but the dungeon has been thought too horrible; now it is composed ofan iron door, a grated air-hole, a camp bed, a pavement of tiles, a ceiling of stone, four stone walls, and it is called "punishment cell. — Victor Hugo

There is a haunting phantom called Regret, A shadowy creature robed somewhat like woe, But fairer in the face, whom all men know By her said mien, and eyes forever wet. No heart would seek her; but once having met All take her by the hand, and to and fro They wander through those paths of long ago
Those hallowed ways 'twere wiser to forget. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I started at 14, and only played bass. I traded in my train set for a bass, and used my dad's amp. — Robbie Merrill

I was born for the peaceful life,
for rural quiet:
the lyre's voice in the wild is more resounding,
creative dreams are more alive.
To harmless leisures consecrated,
I wander by a wasteful lake
and far niente is my rule.
By every morn I am awakened
unto sweet mollitude and freedom;
little I read, a lot I sleep,
fugitive fame do not pursue.
Was it not thus in former years,
that I spent in inaction, in the shade,
my happiest days? — Alexander Pushkin

The problem most people have is the inability to say 'NO'. — Bernard Kelvin Clive

Sleepwalking is the perfect exorcise for lazy people — Benny Bellamacina

Easter is not complete without loving the one who made it possible-Judas. Forgiveness becomes possible when we transcend appearances and realize that those people who represent the Judases in our lives and those qualities within ourselves that seem to have betrayed us have been the divine process growing us into Christs. It's all Love. — Walter Starcke

Here then is the pattern in my carpet, the sense of the eternal mysteries, the eternal beauty hidden beneath the crust of common and commonplace things; hidden and yet burning and glowing continually if you care to look with purged eyes. — Arthur Machen

Every song that I start to write, I wonder if I'll be able to write it. — Emmylou Harris