Pastoral Resources

Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew.

Human life is as evanescent as the morning dew or a flash of lightning.

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.

The dew of compassion is a tear.

Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew, Whose short refresh upon tender green, Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show And straight is gone, as it had never been.

I am... a mushroom; On whom the dew of heaven drops now and then.

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Delicious tears! The heart's own dew.

I think of art, at its most significant, as a DEW line, a Distant Early Warning system that can always be relied on to tell the old culture what is beginning to happen to it.

Joy descends gently upon us like the evening dew, and does not patter down like a hailstorm.

Come, come, my conservative friend, wipe the dew off your spectacles, and see that the world is moving.

Let your life lightly dance on the edges of Time like dew on the tip of a leaf.

The person who doesn't scatter the morning dew will not comb gray hairs.

Nothing can beat the smell of dew and flowers and the odor that comes out of the earth when the sun goes down.

Its liquor is like the sweetest dew from Heaven.