Harsh world Quotes

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Come in, my dearFrom that harsh worldThat has rained elements of stoneUpon your tender face.Every soulShould receive a toast from usFor bravery!

I Heard God Laughing: Poems of Hope and Joy
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Come in, my dearFrom that harsh worldThat has rained elements of stoneUpon your tender face.Every soulShould receive a toast from usFor bravery!

I Heard God Laughing: Poems of Hope and Joy
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In those days, men proved their strength and manliness by being well mannered, helpful, and gentle. Just how gentle they could be under trying circumstances, how civilised they could be in a harsh world, that was the measure of a man.

Terry Lee Rioux, From Sawdust to Stardust: The Biography of DeForest Kelley
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Driving to see my childhood home was very significant for me. It taught me the importance of home, especially to children. Your home is more than just a shelter. It is more than just a place to showcase your design skills. It is more than just a means to an end (especially if you would rather live somewhere else). It is the most importance place of your life. It provides you solace and refuge from the harsh world. It provides tangible comforts, like your cozy sofa and warm bed. But it also provides other comforts in the energy it gives off. You will have so many memories in this home. There will be many firsts here, and if you have children, they will remember even the smallest details about your home - especially all of its off-beat character.

Jennifer L. Scott, At Home with Madame Chic: Becoming a Connoisseur of Daily Life
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A hundred years or more, she's bent her crownin storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.surviving all the random vagariesof this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts downfrom crown along her trunk - mourning slow woodthat rustles tattered, in a hint of windthis January dusk, cloudy, purplingthe ground with sudden shadows. How she broods -you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,alone these many years, despondent, bent,her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.Though not alone, you feel the sadness of atwilight breeze. There's never enough love;the widow nods to you. Her branches moan.

Lauren Lipton
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