The only hero known to my childhood was Henry Clay.
The only hero known to my childhood was Henry Clay.
Gold like the sun, which melts wax, but hardens clay, expands great souls.
The whole earth is the tomb of heroic men and their story is not given only on stone over their clay but abides everywhere without visible symbol woven into the stuff of other mens lives.
It is the timber of poetry that wears most surely, and there is no timber that has not strong roots among the clay and worms.
The reproduction of mankind is a great marvel and mystery. Had God consulted me in the matter, I should have advised him to continue the generation of the species by fashioning them out of clay.
Death is an incident producing clay. Use it, mold it, learn from it.
My grandmothers are full of memories, smelling of soap and onions and wet clay, with veins rolling roughly over quick hands, they have many clean words to say, my grandmothers were strong.
"Empathy" is the latest code word for liberal activism, for treating the Constitution as malleable clay to be kneaded and molded in whatever form justices want. It represents an expansive view of the judiciary in which courts create policy that couldn't pass the legislative branch or, if it did, would generate voter backlash.
It is very hard for me to switch from clay to grass.
My soul had entered in the clay,
Fighting like seven devils.
The child now shewed her a narrow and rugged descent, made by cutting the red clay and stones, of which the cliffs are here composed, into a sort of rude steps.
Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay
And me to Mortal Life betray:
The Death of Jesus set me free.
Shooting clay targets is a very cleansing experience. It's very relaxing. It takes a lot of concentration. It's also very social, since you're usually shooting with friends. You can talk and forget about almost anything else that's on your mind.
I doubt no doubts: I strive, and shrive my clay,
And fight my fight in the patient modern way
For true love and for thee -- ah me!
I am a hidden meaning made to defy. The grasp of words, and walk away With free will and destiny. As living, revolutionary clay.
And whether you ever took it or not,
My boy, wherever you are,
Work for your soul's sake,
That all the clay of you, all of the dross of you,
May yield to the fire of you,
Till the fire is nothing but light!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories