The true men of old were not afraid when they stood alone in their views. No great exploits. No plans. If they failed, no sorrow. No self-congratulation in success.... The true men of old knew no lust for life, no dread of death. Their entrance was without gladness, their exit, yonder, without resistance. Easy come, easy go. They did not forget where from, nor ask where to, nor drive grimly forward fighting their way through life. They took life as it came, gladly took death as it came, without care and went away, yonder. Yonder They had no mind to fight Tao. They did not try by their own contriving, to help Tao along. These are the ones we call true men. Minds free, thoughts gone. Brows clear, faces serene.
Quotes about brows (16 Quotes)
Anthem for Doomed Youth What passing-bells for these who die as cattle Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries for them no prayers nor bells, Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, - The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
This laurel greener from the brows Of him that utter'd nothing base.
LAUREL, n. The laurus, a vegetable dedicated to Apollo, and formerly defoliated to wreathe the brows of victors and such poets as had influence at court. (Vide supra.)
If wrinkles must be written upon your brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should not grow old.
Where sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.
Winter Song The browns, the olives, and the yellows died, And were swept up to heaven where they glowed Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide, And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed, Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed. From off your face, into the winds of winter, The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter, When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing, And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.
If wrinkles must be written on our brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should never grow old.
White teeth, white hands, and neck as ivory white, Black eyes, black brows, black hairs that hide delight Red lips, red cheeks, and tops of nipples red, Long legs, long fingers, long locks of her head, Short feet, short ears, and teeth in measure short, Broad front, broad breast, broad hips in seemly sort, Straight legs, straight nose and straight her pleasures place, Full thighs, full buttocks, full her belly's space, Thin lips, thin eyelids, and hair thin and fine, Small mouth, small waist, small pupils of her eyes.
If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should never grow old.
My arrival in school, with painted lips and darkened brows, started everybody buzzing. Why I was a siren, I hadn't the faintest idea. I didn't want to be kissed, and I didn't dream of being seduced by a duke or a movie star. The truth was that with all my
A night-cap deck'd his brows instead of bay, A cap by night, a stocking all the day.
The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger.
If all hearts were open and all desires known -- as they would be if people showed their souls -- how many gapings, sighings, clenched fists, knotted brows, broad grins, and red eyes should we see in the market-place
I see upon their noble brows the seal of the Lord, for they were born kings of the earth far more truly than those who possess it only from having bought it.
No faith, proud mistress, hope not after it;
'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair,
Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream,
That can entame my spirits to your worship.