Shimmer Shine Quotes & Sayings

Good literature makes your head throb heartlike — David Foster Wallace

I know at my church a lot of the times we sung from hymn books and as we got older we started to change with time. I can honestly say that I was never influenced to write for the church. — Charles King

Every game we play activates our brain, and it's the same brain we have in real life as we have in the game. — Jane McGonigal

I've done modeling since I was 18, but it didn't take off until I moved to Los Angeles. Modeling has always been something I've been really good at, and has been something that's helped pay bills. — Katherine Webb

Perhaps ...
To R.A.L.
Perhaps some day the sun will shine again,
And I shall see that still the skies are blue,
And feel one more I do not live in vain,
Although bereft of you.
Perhaps the golden meadows at my feet,
Will make the sunny hours of spring seem gay,
And I shall find the white May-blossoms sweet,
Though You have passed away.
Perhaps the summer woods will shimmer bright,
And crimson roses once again be fair,
And autumn harvest fields a rich delight,
Although You are not there.
But though kind Time may many joys renew,
There is one greatest joy I shall not know
Again, because my heart for loss of You
Was broken, long ago. — Vera Brittain

Shine and shimmer my Harvest Moon,
illuminate the shadows in the sky. — A.F. Stewart

You're born to shimmer, you're born to shine, you're born to radiate — Shawn Mullins

The reason bin Laden staggered the planes going into the towers was so every camera would be focused on the second tower when the plane hit. It was not only the murder, but the perpetual image of the horror that permeated into people's consciousness. — John Cusack

See, Shel (Silverstein) was possessed with one of the worst singing verses ever heard. Musical appreciation is inherently subjective, and it's normally senseless to write about vocalists or instrumentalists as 'good' or 'bad.' But in Shel's case, it's a practical necessity. His voice was a razor-gargled hyena screech. — Peter Cooper

I'm constantly striving to break through to something new. You try to maintain a neutral approach to your work, and not be too hard on yourself. — Al Pacino

As an actor, you should be willing to take challenges. — Wilmer Valderrama

We know from our own history that democratic institutions take decades to mature, and we know from past conflicts that freedom is not free. — Jim DeMint

Age makes all things greater after their death; a name comes to the tongue easier from the grave. — Sextus Propertius

I don't think there's a thing I own that I will ever get the benefit of except through doing things with it. — Walt Disney

We're born to shimmer, we're born to shine
We're born to radiate
We're born to live, we're born to love
We're born to never hate. — Shawn Mullins

Better to be afraid of witches and murderers than to be one. — Tabitha Morrow

To reduce this claim of slavery to an absurdity, it is only necessary to add that there are only two states in which slaves are a majority, and not one in which the slaveholders are not a very disproportionate minority. — William H. Seward

Any time I see a person fleeing from reason and into religion, I think to myself, There goes a person who simply cannot stand being so goddamn lonely anymore. — Kurt Vonnegut

Early Summer, loveliest season,
The world is being colored in.
While daylight lasts on the horizon,
Sudden, throaty blackbirds sing.

The dusty-colored cuckoo cuckoos.
"Welcome, summer" is what he says.
Winter's unimaginable.
The wood's a wickerwork of boughs.

Summer means the river's shallow,
Thirsty horses nose the pools.
Long heather spreads out on bog pillows.
White bog cotton droops in bloom.

Swallows swerve and flicker up.
Music starts behind the mountain.
There's moss and a lush growth underfoot.
Spongy marshland glugs and stutters.

Bog banks shine like ravens' wings.
The cuckoo keeps on calling welcome.
The speckled fish jumps; and the strong
Swift warrior is up and running.

A little, jumpy, chirpy fellow
Hits the highest note there is;
The lark sings out his clear tidings.
Summer, shimmer, perfect days. — Marie Heaney