His drinke, the running streame, his cup, the bare
Of his palme cloasde, his bed, the hard cold ground:
To this poore life was Misery ybound.
--
Line 264, p. 320.Thomas Sackville Dorset
» Thomas Sackville Dorset - all quotes »
My lodging is on the cold ground,
And hard, very hard, is my fare,
But that which grieves me more
Is the coldness of my dear.John Gay
Sometimes I’m misunderstood and it’s hard to come by that. My life has been full of excitement. I’ve done pretty much what I wanted to do. I came from the Midwest, from South Dakota, and I came up the hard way. We lived on a farm; we didn’t even have electricity or running water if you know what I mean. People don’t know what that life is like.
Mamie Van Doren
Sometimes I’m misunderstood and it’s hard to come by that. My life has been full of excitement. I’ve done pretty much what I wanted to do. I came from the Midwest, from South Dakota, and I came up the hard way. We lived on a farm; we didn’t even have electricity or running water if you know what I mean. People don’t know what that life is like.
Mamie Van Doren
Change isn't easy, Micky. Changing the way you live means changing the way you think. Changing the way you think means changing what you believe about life. That's hard, sweetie. When we make our own misery, we sometimes cling to it even when we want so bad to change, because the misery is something we know. The misery is comfortable.
Dean R. Koontz
I call to mind a winter landscape in Amsterdam — a flat foreground of waste land, with here and there stacks of timber, like the huts of a camp of some very miserable tribe; the long stretch of the Handelskade; cold, stone-faced quays, with the snow-sprinkled ground and the hard, frozen water of the canal, in which were set ships one behind another with their frosty mooring-ropes hanging slack and their decks idle and deserted, because... their cargoes were frozen-in up-country on barges and schuyts. In the distance, beyond the waste ground, and running parallel with the line of ships, a line of brown, warm-toned houses seemed bowed under snow-laden roofs. From afar at the end of Tsar Peter Straat, issued in the frosty air the tinkle of bells of the horse tramcars, appearing and disappearing in the opening between the buildings, like little toy carriages harnessed with toy horses and played with by people that appeared no bigger than children.
Joseph Conrad
Dorset, Thomas Sackville, 1st Earl of
Dos Passos, John
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