In the morning, we carry the world like Atlas At noon, we stoop and bend beneath it And at night, it crushes us flat to the ground
In the morning, we carry the world like Atlas At noon, we stoop and bend beneath it And at night, it crushes us flat to the ground
Boys have their soft and gentle moods too. You would suppose by the morning racket that nothing could be more foreign to their nature than romance and vague sadness.... But boys have hours of great sinking and sadness, when kindness and fondness are peculiarly needful to them.
We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning.
The first hour of the morning is the rudder of the day.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories