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Best Sunset Quotes Collection
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I woke up one morning to find i was famous. i bought a white rolls-royce and drove down sunset boulevard, wearing dark specs and a white suit, waving like the queen mum.
I was in the virgin islands once. i met a girl. we ate lobster, drank piña coladas. at sunset, we made love like sea otters. that was a pretty good day. why couldn't i get that day over and over and over?
In terms of the fantasy wedding thing, i can kind of cross off the island beach thing. maybe at sunset or something.
We long to find someone who has been where we've been, who shares our fragile places, who sees our sunsets with the same shades of blue. soul mates. they somehow validate the depth of our experiences.
Don't assume that god will always work in your life the way he always has. a sunset is proof that god colors outside the lines. he has no status quo. even the laws of nature are his to interrupt. as many times as you've prayed before, today may be the day when god sends the answer so swiftly-so divinely-that you're windburned.
When i think something nice is going to happen i seem to fly right up on the wings of anticipation; and then the first thing i realize i drop down to earth with a thud. but really, marilla, the flying part is glorious as long as it lasts. . . it's like soaring through a sunset. i think it almost pays for the thud.
Why did dusk and fir-scent and the afterglow of autumnal sunsets make people say absurd things?
I can't help flying up on the wings of anticipation. it's as glorious as soaring through a sunset... almost pays for the thud.
Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.
But anne with her elbows on the window sill, her soft cheek laid against her clasped hands, and her eyes filled with visions, looked out unheedingly across city roof and spire to that glorious dome of sunset sky and wove her dreams of a possible future from the golden tissue of youth's own optimism. all the beyond was hers, with its possibilities lurking rosily in the oncoming years — each year a rose of promise to be woven into an immortal chaplet.
Nasturtiums, who colored you, you wonderful, glowing things? you must have been fashioned out of summer sunsets.
It was november--the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines. anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park and, as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the fogs out of her soul.
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