Red White And Blue Star Quotes & Sayings

When life takes the wind out of your sails, it is to test you at the oars. — Robert Breault

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth. — William Shakespeare

I get a lot of sleep on the bus. I bring two dogs with me, who keep me grounded. I guess that's just in my soul. It's good to know that you're good at something. — Emmylou Harris

On the following morning the little hut on the Alm opened wide its doors and windows as if to drink up the early sunshine. Days went by. The warmth of the spring sun woke up first the little blue gentians - those with a white star in the center; then, one by one, all the other lovely flowers opened their petals. There were jonquils and red primroses and little golden rockroses with thorns on the edge of their petals. They all bloomed in their brightest colors while Peter watched the miracle taking place, as he had watched it every spring since he could remember. He had never quite seen the beauty of it, however, until Heidi had come to show him. — Charles Tritten

The Duplass brothers do that so well - that very simple, very horrifically awkward comedy. — Timothy Simons

And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the silence. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I'm allergic to dogma. I thrive on riddles. Any idea I believe, I reserve the right to disbelieve as well. — Rob Brezsny

When will the left learn that if you confiscate wealth it doesn't create more of it. — Josh Bernstein

I still want to do what I want to do, but we also have to think about some sense of protecting the business that's out there as well. — Paul Weller

Don't shave my head to make your wig of selfishness. Shave it because you care. — Jarod Kintz

The gnome did indeed have a flag, but not an American one. Not even the Maine flag with the moose on it. The one the gnome was holding had a vertical blue stripe and two fat horizontal stripes, the top one white and the bottom one red. It also had a single star. I gave the gnome a pat on his pointy hat as I went past and mounted the front steps of Al's little house on Vining Street, thinking about an amusing song by Ray Wylie Hubbard: "Screw You, We're from Texas. — Stephen King

No sapient could sustain happiness all of the time, just as no one could live permanently within anger, or boredom, or grief. — Becky Chambers

On canvas with paint In the Artist's school It's red that is hot And blue that is cool. But in science we show As the heat gets higher That a star will glow red Like the coals of a fire. Raise the heat some more And what is in sight? It's no longer red It has turned bright white. Yet the hottest of all, Merlin says unto you, Is neither white nor red When the star has turned blue. — Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Our economic competitors ... are eating us for lunch, and we can get in the game or not. We can be at the table, or we can be on the table. — Jennifer Granholm

I miss you, Jude. I'm looking forward to putting my arms around you. We're going to sing just like the old days. Everyone sings here. After a while it kind of sounds like screaming. Just listen. Listen and you can hear them screaming. — Joe Hill

The park is high. And as out of a house
I step out of its glimmering half-light
into openness and evening. Into the wind,
the same wind that the clouds feel,
the bright rivers and the turning mills
that stand slowly grinding at the sky's edge.
Now I too am a thing held in its hand,
the smallest thing under the sky. --Look:

Is that one sky?:
Blissfully lucid blue,
into which ever purer clouds throng,
and under it all white in endless changes,
and over it that huge, thin-spun gray,
pulsing warmly as on red underpaint,
and over everything this silent radiance
of a setting sun.

Miraculous structure,
moved within itself and upheld by itself,
shaping figures, giant wings, faults
and high mountain ridges before the first star
and suddenly, there: a gate into such
distances as perhaps only birds know... — Rainer Maria Rilke

More than the choking heat, more than the blinding flames that rise up into the night sky, more than the endlessly leaping colours that change shape with every moment, more than all of these is the transforming power of fire. Fire takes solid wooden beams and reduces them to charcoal. It licks at everything with a scarlet tongue and leaves it black. It spreads like the folds of a golden robe over human bodies and what is left is gray and chalky: ash, blown up and up by every breath of wind only to fall like dust on the ground. When it is burning most fiercely, it seems that it might go on forever and devour everything in its path. It does not cower and withdraw in front of princes. Palace and hovel alike are good fuel and nothing more. It is unstoppable. And when it has moved, what remains is desolation. — Adele Geras

Roarke: The bodies of the three men were found floating in the Chattahoochee River.
Eve: I think it'd be embarrassing to be dead in the Hoochie-Coochie River.
Roarke: Chattahoochee
Eve: What's the difference?
Roarke: Quite a bit, I'd think. — J.D. Robb

When I was younger, Lisa Leslie inspired me a whole lot. She was someone I looked up to and wanted to be like. I really believe she is a good person. Hopefully, she can find out I am the same. — Lauren Jackson