Quotes about pensive (16 Quotes)






    Throw hither all your quaint enamell'd eyes That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine, The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet, The glowing violet, The musk-rose, and the well-attir'd woodbine, With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears.


    And, ... I was a little bit pensive, not unlike Ricky Williams. I understand, I think, some of what he was sensing. Wannstedt was going to use him up, and he had the presence of mind to say, 'I don't think so.' They weren't going anywhere last year, and perhaps he sensed that, too. Look, Ricky's got his problems -- don't we all But when I watched him Monday, he was thoughtful. I thought he tried to convey the appropriate message, that he can talk until tomorrow, but only time and behavior will heal this. I like that he said he had no big message. I do applaud Ricky Williams. . . . Do not confuse Ricky Williams and Terrell Owens. I'm not impressed with T. O. and what he's doing.

    Any person, brought into the presence of this fact, stops for a few moments and remains pensive and silent; and then generally leaves, carrying with him forever a sharper, keener sense of our incessant motion through space.

    With eyes up-rais'd, as one inspir'd, Pale Melancholy sate retir'd, And from her wild sequester'd seat, In notes by distance made more sweet, Pour'd thro' the mellow horn her pensive soul.

    It was joyful to hear the merry whistle of blackbirds as they darted from one clump of greenery to the other. Now and again a peaty amber colored stream rippled across their way, with ferny over-grown banks, where the blue kingfisher flitted busily from side to side, or the gray and pensive heron, swollen with trout and dignity, stood ankle-deep among the sedges. Chattering jays and loud wood-pigeons flapped thickly overhead, while ever and anon the measured tapping of Nature's carpenter, the great green woodpecker, sounded from each wayside grove.





    I wanderd lonely as a cloud That floats on high oer vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretchd in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company I gazedand gazedbut little thought What wealth the show to me had brought For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude And then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.


    Flowers have an expression of countenance as much as men or animals. Some seem to smile some have a sad expression some are pensive and diffident others again are plain, honest and upright, like the broad-faced sunflower and hollyhock.



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