Explore Quotations, Proverbs & Sayings

«And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety--they were with God.»

«Fair daffodils, we weep to see / You haste away so soon: / As yet the early-rising sun / Has not attained his noon.»

«A minister has to be able to read a clock. At noon, it's time to go home and turn up the pot roast and get the peas out of the freezer.»

«A child of one can be taught not to do certain things such as touch a hot stove, turn on the gas, pull lamps off their tables by their cords, or wake mommy before noon»

«A truly great book should be read in youth, again in maturity and once more in old age, as a fine building should be seen by morning light, at noon and by moonlight.»

«Far are the shades of Arabia, / Where the Princes ride at noon.»

«And it came to pass at noon, that Elijah mocked them, and said, Cry aloud: for he is a god; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked.»

«Deep in the shady sadness of a vale / Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, / Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, / Sat gray-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone.»

«Death eats up all things, both the young lamb and old sheep; and I have heard our parson say, death values a prince no more than a clown; all?s fish that comes to his net; he throws at all, and sweeps stakes; he?s no mower that takes a nap at noon-day, but drives on, fair weather or foul, and cuts down the green grass as well as the ripe corn: he?s neither squeamish nor queesy-stomach?d, for he swallows without chewing, and crams down all things into his ungracious maw; and tho? you can see no belly he has, he has a confounded dropsy, and thirsts after men?s lives, which he guggles down like mother?s milk.»

«Forth from his dark and lonely hiding-place, (Portentous sight!) the owlet Atheism, sailing on obscene wings athwart the noon, drops his blue-fringed lids, and holds them close, and hooting at the glorious sun in Heaven, cries out, ''Where is it?''»