#golden

And Fall, with her yeller harvest moon and the hills growin' brown and golden under a sinkin' sun. ↗

— Roy Bean

#fall #golden #harvest #her #hills

Happy the man who, like Ulysses, has made a fine voyage, or has won the Golden Fleece, and then returns, experienced and knowledgeable, to spend the rest of his life among his family. ↗

— Joachim du Bellay

#experienced #family #fine #golden #happy

Victor Young had been hired to write the score for the dances of The Ten Commandments but he became very ill. You were then hired to write the score. But at the same time you'd written The Man with the Golden Arm score. ↗

— Elmer Bernstein

#became #been #commandments #dances #golden

Living in that childish wonder is a most beautiful feeling - I can so well remember it. There was always something more - behind and beyond everything - to me, the golden spectacles were very, very big. ↗

— Kate Greenaway

#beautiful #behind #beyond #big #childish

Silence is not only golden, it is seldom misquoted. ↗

— Bob Monkhouse

#misquoted #only #seldom #silence

Capo, my first golden retriever, so loved to swim she once jumped off a cliff to get into Lake Superior. ↗

— Sara Paretsky

#first #get #golden #into #jumped

I have an immigrant story. Most people come here for economic reasons, or religious reasons, or racial reasons, or gender reasons, or one of those things. I had a good job in Paris, but America was, and still is, the golden fleece. And I've done very well! ↗

— Jacques Pepin

#come #done #economic #gender #golden

There is a movement happening, a quiet one. A low-profile, low-resolution revolution. Comprised of writers and dreamers, of guerrilla artists and thought-ninjas. Those with something to say. They communicate through text inscribed on true public spaces, rather than blogs and forums. Choosing fewer words, even without being bound by 140 character limits. Using ink instead of pixels. Sending messages in living, breathing space. Pens scream louder into the void. Even if permanent ink is not aptly named. ↗

— Erin Morgenstern

#communication

Golden retrievers are not bred to be guard dogs, and considering the size of their hearts and their irrepressible joy in life, they are less likely to bite than to bark, less likely to bark than to lick a hand in greeting. In spite of their size, they think they are lap dogs, and in spite of being dogs, they think they are also human, and nearly every human they meet is judged to have the potential to be a boon companion who might, at many moment, cry, "Let's go!" and lead them on a great adventure. ↗

— Dean Koontz

#golden-retrievers #life

He tilted his head to the side, still watching me in that same, disconcerting way. “Some things are true, drunk or sober. You should know that. You deal in facts all the time.” “Yeah, but this isn’t—” I couldn’t argue with him looking at me like that. “I have to go. Wait… you didn’t take the cross.” I held it out to him. He shook his head. “Keep it. I think I’ve got something else to help center my life. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#richelle-mead #sydney-sage #the-golden-lily #life