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She says you're not awake until you're actually out of bed and standing up. ― Richelle Mead, Blood Promise
How sweet the morning air is! See how that one little cloud floats like a pink feather from some floats flamingo. Now the red rim of the sun pushes itself over the London cloud-bank. It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than you and I. How small we feel with our petty ambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forces of Nature! ― Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes: The Complete Novels and Stories, Volume I
Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping. ― Oscar Wilde
I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky. ― Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days
No joke- I’d leave meetings crying all the time. -- Kanye West
The longest way must have its close - the gloomiest gloomiest will wear on to a morning.― Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom’s Cabin
I avoid that bleak first hour of the working day during which my still sluggish senses and body make every chore a penance. I find that in arriving later, the work which I do perform is of a much higher quality. ― John Kennedy Toole, A Confederacy of Dunces
I woke up early and took the first train to take me away from the city. The noise and all its people. I was alone on the train and had no idea where I was going, and that’s why I went there. Two hours later we arrived in a small town, one of those towns with one single coffee shop and where everyone knows each other’s name. I walked for a while until I found the water, the most peaceful place I know. There I sat and stayed the whole day, with nothing and everything on my mind, cleaning my head. Silence, I learned, is some times the most beautiful sound. ― Charlotte Eriksson
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 fucked up little life. ― Charlotte Eriksson, Empty Roads & Broken Bottles: in search for The Great Perhaps
Morning without you is a Morning dawn. ― Emily Dickinson
