Thomas Morley famous quotes
Last updated: Sep 5, 2024
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Now is the month of Maying, When merry lads are playing. Fa la la... Each with his bonny lass, upon the greeny grass. Fa la la... The Spring clad all in gladness, Doth laugh at winter's sadness. Fa la la...
-- Thomas Morley -
You must in your music be wavering like the wind; sometimes wanton, sometimes drooping, sometimes grave and staid, otherwhile effeminate; and the more variety you show, the better shall you please.
-- Thomas Morley -
Now is the month of Maying, When merry lads are playing. Fa la la... Each with his bonny lass, upon the greeny grass. Fa la la... The Spring clad all in gladness, Doth laugh at winter's sadness. Fa la la.
-- Thomas Morley
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Christ is not a reservoir but a spring. His life is continual, active and ever passing on with an outflow as necessary as its inflow. If we do not perpetually draw the fresh supply from the living Fountain, we shall either grow stagnant or empty, It is, therefore, not so much a perpetual fullness as a perpetual filling.
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Loveliest of trees, the cherry now Is hung with bloom along the bough.
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I drink from a small spring, / my thirst excedes the ocean.
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It would no doubt be very sentimental to argue - but I would argue it nevertheless - that the peculiar combination of joy and sadness in bell music - both of clock chimes, and of change-ringing - is very typical of England. It is of a piece with the irony in which English people habitually address one another.
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When most people think of Woodrow Wilson, they see a dour minister's son who never cracked a smile, where in fact he was a man of genuine joy and great sadness.
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It is perhaps sad books that best console us when we are sad...
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June suns, you cannot store them To warm the winter's cold, The lad that hopes for heaven Shall fill his mouth with mould.
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All in all, this whole period of winter 1919-20 was a single struggle to strengthen confidence in the victorious might of the young movement and raise it to that fanaticism of faith which can move mountains.
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The winter is forbidden till December, And exits March the second on the dot. By order summer lingers through September In Camelot.
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The harshest winter finds an invincible summer in us.
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