Browsing Topic Best Dust Quotes

Take a deep breath, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.

I’ve never doubted that apartheid – because it was of itself fundamentally, intrinsically evil – was going to bite the dust eventually.

Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. We are nothing, but dust and to dust we shall return. Amen.

Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.

Withdraw now from the invisible pounding and weaving of your ingrained ideas. If you want to be rid of this invisible turmoil, you must just sit through it and let go of everything. Attain fulfillment and illuminate thoroughly. Light and shadow altogether forgotten. Drop off your own skin, and the sense-dusts will be fully purified. The eye then readily discerns the brightness.

I drive a car till it turns to dust, then I sweep up the dust and ride on the dust.

This is another day! Are its eyes blurred with maudlin grief for any wasted past? A thousand thousand failures shall not daunt! Let dust clasp dust, death, death; I am alive!

An hour-glass is a reminder not only of time’s quick flight, but also of the dust to which we must at last return

All actions without love are just like dust in the air.

I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.

In the midst of life we are in death, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection.

I know not if this earth on which I stand is the core of the universe or if it is but a speck of dust lost in eternity. I know not and I care not. For I know what happiness is possible to me on earth. And my happiness needs no higher aim to vindicate it. My happiness is not the means to any end. It is the end. It is its own goal. It is its own purpose.

Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

We’ve got no fairytale ending, in God’s hands our fate is complete. Your heaven’s here in my heart, our love’s this dust beneath my feet.

To preserve the silence within–amid all the noise. To remain open and quiet, a moist humus in the fertile darkness where the rain falls and the grain ripens–no matter how many tramp across the parade ground in whirling dust under an arid sky.

I don’t wear base, as I don’t like to cover up my freckles, but I couldn’t live without YSL Touche Eclat for hiding my under-eye circles. I love the smoky-eye look, so I use Dior’s 5-Colour Eyeshadow in Night Dust and lashings of mascara. I finish with a dash of bronzer for a healthy glow.

I can’t believe in the God of my Fathers. If there is one Mind which understands all things, it will comprehend me in my unbelief. I don’t know whose hand hung Hesperus in the sky, and fixed the Dog Star, and scattered the shining dust of Heaven, and fired the sun, and froze the darkness between the lonely worlds that spin in space.

I would not knock old fellows in the dustBut there lay Captain Carpenter on his backHis weapons were the old heart in his bustAnd a blade shook between rotten teeth alack.

The seeker after truth should be humbler than the dust.

I would bend the knee before the poorest scavenger, the poorest untouchable in India for having participated in crushing him for centuries; I would even take the dust off his feet.

When things start to get rough, you find comfort in your faith. Knowing that no matter what, you can dust yourself off and be okay.

From the solemn gloom of the temple children run out to sit in the dust, God watches them play and forgets the priest.

Golden lads and girls all must as chimney sweepers come to dust.

The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.

In some respects, if I had to choose just one (virtue on the spiritual path), I’d feel safest with a sense of humor. We pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, have a good laugh about human nature, and get on with our journeys.

Man comes from a drop of semen and leaves as a piece of dust. He doesn’t know when he came and he doesn’t know when he’s leaving, yet he walks on the earth thinking he knows everything.

The right thing to do is to let the dust settle.

Love is the simplest of all earthly things. It needs no grandeur of celestial trust In more than what it is, no holy wings: It stands with honest feet in honest dust, And is the body’s blossoming in clear air Of trustfulness and joyance when alone Two mortals pass beyond the hour’s despair And claim that Paradise which is their own. Amid a universe of sweat and blood, Beyond the glooms of all the nations’ hate, Lovers, forgetful of the poisoned mood Of the loud world, in secret ere too late A gentle sacrament may celebrate Before their private altar of the good.

I’ve lived to bury my desires and see my dreams corrode with rust now all that’s left are fruitless fires that burn my empty heart to dust. Struck by the clouds of cruel fate My crown of Summer bloom is sere Alone and sad, I watch and wait And wonder if the end is near. As conquered by the last cold air When Winter whistles in the wind Alone upon a branch that’s bare A trembling leaf is left behind.

But the dust! And the clutter! My housewifely and scholarly instincts were equally offended.

Because the machine will try to grind you into dust anyway, whether or not we speak.

My desire to get here [Parliament] was like miners’coal dust, it was under my fingers and I couldn’t scrub it out.

O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things,That draws oblivion’s curtains over kings;Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not,Their names without a record are forgot,Their parts, their ports, their pomps all laid in th’ dustNor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape time’s rust;But he whose name is graved in the white stoneShall last and shine when all of these are gone.

But now we got weapons Of the chemical dust If fire them we’re forced to Then fire them we must One push of the button And a shot the world wide And you never ask questions When God’s on your side

The distance between me and Benny [Goodman], was that I was trying to play a musical thing, and Benny was trying to swing. Benny had great fingers; I’d never deny that. But listen to our two versions of ‘Star Dust.’ I was playing; he was swinging.