quotations about morning
Let me wake up next to you, have coffee in the morning and wander through the city with your hand in mine, and I'll be happy for the rest of my f***ed up little life.
CHARLOTTE ERIKSSON
Empty Roads & Broken Bottles
Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;
Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
EDWARD FITZGERALD
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
On, on we went, till at last the east began to blush like the cheek of a girl. Then there came faint rays of primrose light, that changed presently to golden bars, through which the dawn glided out across the desert. The stars grew pale and paler still, till at last they vanished; the golden moon waxed wan, and her mountain ridges stood out against her sickly face like the bones on the cheek of a dying man. Then came spear upon spear of light flashing far away across the boundless wilderness, piercing and firing the veils of mist, till the desert was draped in a tremulous golden glow, and it was day.
H. RIDER HAGGARD
King Solomon's Mines
Dawn has power to fertilise the most matter-of-fact vision.
JOHN GALSWORTHY
The Forsyte Saga
An hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd from the golden window of the east.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Romeo and Juliet
Morning has broken,
Like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken
Like the first bird.
Praise for the singing!
Praise for the morning!
Praise for them springing
Fresh from the Word!
ELEANOR FARJEON
"Morning Has Broken"
Rise early, that by habit it may become familiar, agreeable, healthy, and profitable. It may, for a while, be irksome to do this, but that will wear off; and the practice will produce a rich harvest forever thereafter; whether in public or private walks of life.
GEORGE WASHINGTON
letter to George Washington Parke Custis, January 7, 1798
It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.
H. G. WELLS
The Time Machine
The day begins to break, and night is fled,
Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Henry VI, Part I
Another morning soon shall rise,
Another day salute our eyes,
As smiling and as fair as she,
And make as many promises;
But do not thou
The tale believe,
They're sisters all,
And all deceive.
ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD
"The Promise of the Dawn"
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.
EDWARD FITZGERALD
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
The meek-eyed Morn appears, mother of Dews.
JAMES THOMSON
"Summer", The Seasons
She says you're not awake until you're actually out of bed and standing up.
RICHELLE MEAD
Blood Promise
The bright incarnate spirit of the Morn.
ALFRED AUSTIN
Madonna's Child
I have always disliked the morning, it is too responsible a time, with the daylight demanding that it be 'faced' and (usually when I wake for I wake late) with the sun already up and in charge of the world, with little hope of anyone usurping or challenging its authority. A shot of light in the face of a poor waking human being and another slave limps wounded into the light-occupied territory.
JANET FRAME
Daughter Buffalo
Morn,
Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand
Unbarr'd the gates of light.
JOHN MILTON
Paradise Lost
When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm
Across green fields and yellow hills of hay
The little twittering birds laugh in his way
And poise triumphant on his shining arm.
He bears a sword of flame but not to harm
The wakened life that feels his quickening sway
And barnyard voices shrilling "It is day!"
Take by his grace a new and alien charm.
But in the city, like a wounded thing
That limps to cover from the angry chase,
He steals down streets where sickly arc-lights sing,
And wanly mock his young and shameful face;
And tiny gongs with cruel fervor ring
In many a high and dreary sleeping place.
JOYCE KILMER
"Alarm Clocks"
The morn is up again, the dewy morn,
With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom,
Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn,
And living as if earth contained no tomb,
And glowing into day.
LORD BYRON
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
He got out of bed and peeped through the blinds. To the east and opposite to him gardens and an apple-orchard lay, and there in strange liquid tranquility hung the morning star, and rose, rilling into the dusk of night the first grey of dawn. The street beneath its autumn leaves was vacant, charmed, deserted.
WALTER DE LA MARE
The Return
Daylight is nobody's friend.
God comes in like a landlord
and flashes on his brassy lamp.
ANNE SEXTON
"You All Know the Story of the Other Woman"