Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., read more

Think that day lost whose (low) descending sun
Views from thy hand no noble action done.
[Lat., Virtus sui gloria.]

For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou
shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear:
read more

For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou
shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear:
Because thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters
that pass away:
And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday; thou shalt shine
forth, thou shalt be as the morning.

For, he that expects nothing shall not be disappointed, but he that expects much - if he lives and uses read more

For, he that expects nothing shall not be disappointed, but he that expects much - if he lives and uses that in hand day by day - shall be full to running over.

If you don't think every day is a good day, just try missing one.

If you don't think every day is a good day, just try missing one.

Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around read more

Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; it's when you've had everything to do, and you've done it.

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the read more

The day are ever divine as to the first Aryans. They are of the
least pretension, and of the greatest capacity of anything that
exists. They come and go like muffled and veiled figures sent
from a distant friendly party; but they say nothing, and if we do
not use the gifts they bring, they carry them as silently away.

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an read more

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands;
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all;
I, in my pleached garden watched the pomp
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I too late
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.