Lake Quotes

Yeah! Bring it on lake!" -Coach Gleeson Hedge

If I had to describe the scent of Michigan in spring and summer, it wouldn't be aparticular smell – blooming wildflowers or boat exhaust off the lake – it would be a color: Green.

It was a generation growing in its disillusionment about the deepening recession and the backroom handshakes and greedy deals for private little pots of gold that created the largest financial meltdown since the Great Depression. As heirs to the throne, we all knew, of course, how bad the economy was, and our dreams, the ones we were told were all right to dream, were teetering gradually toward disintegration. However, on that night, everyone seemed physically at ease and exempt from life’s worries with final exams over and bar class a distant dream with a week before the first lecture, and as I looked around at the jubilant faces and loud voices, if you listened carefully enough you could almost hear the culmination of three years in the breath of the night gasp in an exultant sigh as if to say, “Law school was over at last!

just find your way, like a river settling into its bed, and the sigh of the wind over a lake, light but restful... content with the joy in the arc of an arm throwing a ball for a dog to fetch

When you sit tranquilly, you set a great example to the people who rush around in panic and thus you show the crazy waves the beauty of being a calm lake!

Mehmet Murat ildan

I have left behind what tethered me to the lake. The sadness. The self-pity. The dark tentacles of the murky sea monster only I could see. And I have come to appreciate the ocean. How the sun and salt together can leave things weightless, easy, and smooth around the edges. Like sea glass and driftwood.

Holy gods. He'd frozen the whole damn lake. He was THAT powerful?

...I live with regrets - the bittersweet loss of innocence - the red track of the moon upon the lake - the inability to return and do it again...

Black met black on the distant horizon, the stars alone distinguishing sky from lake. On the sand below, Silver Beach glittered at the water's edge while on the north side of the river the lighthouse's beacon signaled safe harbor.

Sturdy swimmers afloat on water-couch Beneath the heavy bill their treasured pouchFishes pray for them to fly far away Inland lakes toast to the Pelican’s day

I was moved beyond words. The train ride over the mountains from lake Titticaca to Cusco reminded me of Africa where I grew up; and 4 days walking on the Inca Trail, then more in the jungle, just magnificent - time, space, and splendour. Our planet is superb!

Reflection is a good reminder of the truth! You may turn your eyes away from the truths, but the reflections will remind them to you! And anything which describes a truth well is a reflection of that truth! Turn your eyes away from the Moon, then the lake will remind the Moon to you, the shadows of the wolves howling against the Moon will remind the truth to you, even in the eyes of a frog, you shall see the Moon! Thus, if you turn your face away from the truth, it will never work! Because the reminders of truth are everywhere and they are as strong as the truth itself!

Mehmet Murat ildan

The little lake you love is the biggest ocean for you!

Mehmet Murat ildan

Vomit began to spill out of me like pea soup, splattering the road with champagne and caviar, long island iced teas, of bacon appetizers and croissants, and a perfectly grilled filet mignonette. It had gone down easy, among the kiss ups of the lawyer world, but spewed out nastily and hard, in the company of a cheater.

She had golden blazing sun kissed hair, which hung down in loose, lazy spirals, a heart shaped pouted mouth, which was pink tinged with violet blushing, wide, spangled blue eyes that glimmered sparks to flicker and ember in the vivid intelligence of the moon’s love, and a yielding body, that seem to tangle in loose rhythm as I walked near to her.

Shortly before school started, I moved into a studio apartment on a quiet street near the bustle of the downtown in one of the most self-conscious bends of the world. The “Gold Coast” was a neighborhood that stretched five blocks along the lake in a sliver of land just south of Lincoln Park and north of River North. The streets were like fine necklaces and strung together were the brownstone houses and tall condominiums and tiny mansions like pearls, and when the day broke and the sun faded away, their lights burned like jewels shining gaudily in the night. The world’s most elegant bazaar, Michigan Avenue, jutted out from its eastern tip near The Drake Hotel and the timeless blue-green waters of Lake Michigan pressed its shores. The fractious make-up of the people that inhabited it, the flat squareness of its parks and the hint of the lake at the ends of its tree-lined streets squeezed together a domesticated cesspool of age and wealth and standing. It was a place one could readily dress up for an expensive dinner at one of the fashionable restaurants or have a drink miles high in the lounge of the looming John Hancock Building and five minutes later be out walking on the beach with pants cuffed and feet in the cool water at the lake’s edge.

His kiss was like no other! His kiss was enchanted and fairy-tale like. He applied pressure, but just enough to feel his tenderness and warmth. I could feel his heart beating wildly as he pressed his chest against my chest all the while his loving lips brushed up against mine with a care-filled affection. His tongue lightly licked the outer edges of my mouth, and then searched for my tongue. The pursuit allowed a marriage of both tongues to meet - inspiring a mingling tango of hot and heavy French kissing to manifest profusely. We kissed like two hot and horny teenagers, our mouths moving and craving each others lips, in animalistic desires!

Find a calm lake and wait for the twilight in silence! There, existence will visit you with all its magnificence! The existence of the Existence can best be felt in the presence of dimness and in the absence of crowds and noises!

Mehmet Murat ildan

Becoming a lake has put a lot of things in perspective for me.

Heather Christle

Be calm like a calm lake, then you will look beautiful like a beautiful calm lake!

Mehmet Murat ildan

Stay away from the underground lake I implore,The Siren will see you are heard of no more.

E.A. Bucchianeri

The man I am writing about is not famous. It may be that he never will be. It may be that when his life at last comes to an end he will leave no more trace of his sojourn on earth than a stone thrown into a river leaves on the surface of the water.

W Somerset Maugham

Take the broken pieces of your life, bake a master cake out of it. Don't stand still like a lake; keep flowing like a stream!

Israelmore Ayivor

He pictured himself at the lake, on a houseboat. Dekka would be there, and Brianna and Jack. He would have friends. He wouldn’t be alone.But he couldn’t stop himself from looking for her.She no longer had Little Pete to worry about. They could be together without all of that. But of course he knew Astrid, and knew that right now, wherever she was, she was eaten up inside with guilt.“She’s not coming, is she?” Sam said to Dekka.But Dekka didn’t answer. She was somewhere else in her head. Sam saw her glance and look away as Brianna laid a light hand on Jack’s shoulder.Dahra was staying in the hospital, but a few more kids came. Groups of three or four at a time. The Siren and the kids she lived with came. John Terrafino came. Ellen. He waited. He would wait the full two hours. Not for her, he told himself, just to keep his word.Then Orc, with Howard.Sam groaned inwardly.“You gotta be kidding me,” Brianna said.“The deal was kids make a choice,” Sam said. “I think Howard just realized how dangerous life can be for a criminal living in a place where the ‘king’ can decide life or death.

If Molly had not been so entirely loyal to her friend, she might havethought this constant brilliancy a little tiresome when brought intoevery-day life; it was not the sunshiny rest of a placid lake, it wasrather the glitter of the pieces of a broken mirror, which confusesand bewilders.

Elizabeth Gaskell

We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all these records of the past, philosophies and dreams, and efforts stained with tears, of great and tender souls who tried to pierce the mystery of life and death, to answer the eternal questions of the Whence and Whither, and vainly sought to make, with bits of shattered glass, a mirror that would, in very truth, reflect the face and form of Nature's perfect self.These myths were born of hopes, and fears, and tears, and smiles, and they were touched and colored by all there is of joy and grief between the rosy dawn of birth, and death's sad night. They clothed even the stars with passion, and gave to gods the faults and frailties of the sons of men. In them, the winds and waves were music, and all the lakes, and streams, and springs,—the mountains, woods and perfumed dells were haunted by a thousand fairy forms. They thrilled the veins of Spring with tremulous desire; made tawny Summer's billowed breast the throne and home of love; filled Autumns arms with sun-kissed grapes, and gathered sheaves; and pictured Winter as a weak old king who felt, like Lear upon his withered face, Cordelia's tears. These myths, though false, are beautiful, and have for many ages and in countless ways, enriched the heart and kindled thought. But if the world were taught that all these things are true and all inspired of God, and that eternal punishment will be the lot of him who dares deny or doubt, the sweetest myth of all the Fable World would lose its beauty, and become a scorned and hateful thing to every brave and thoughtful man.

Robert G. Ingersoll

My mother always wanted to live near the water," she said. "She said it's the one thing that brings us all together. That I can have my toe in the ocean off the coast of Maine, and a girl my age can have her toe in the ocean off the coast of Africa, and we would be touching. On opposite sides of the world.

If you are a boat and your lake is frozen, what can you do? You will wait for the spring! We are lucky that we are humans, we don’t have to wait for the spring; we can break the ice if necessary, we can use fire to open our way! Nothing can stop the mind if the mind decides to move to his target!

Mehmet Murat ildan

The lake of my mind, unbroken by oars, heaves placidly and soon sinks into an oily somnolence.’ That will be useful.

Every lake belongs to the quietness desired by the swans.

The afternoon had passed to a ghostly gray. She was struck by the immensity of things, so much water and sky and forest, and after a time it occurred to her that she’d lived a life almost entirely indoors. Her memories were indoor memories, fixed by ceilings and plastered white walls. Her whole life had been locked to geometries: suburban rectangles, city squares. First the house she’d grown up in, then dorms and apartments. The open air had been nothing but a medium of transit, a place for rooms to exist.

As the sun sinksIt casts that silver bridgeAcross the lake

Richard L. Ratliff

A little tranquil lake is more significant to my life than any big city in the world

Mist to mist, drops to drops. For water thou art, and unto water shalt thou return.

There have been times I have thought some dreams should never be dreamt, but I would hate a world where that was true.

Every morningbefore the birds starttrilling me their stories,I give birth to a new lovethrough my same old heartwhen a lake’s placidityfinds life in the swans breathOnly for you...From the poem 'Only For You

It’s time,” Jack said.“Breeze? Count the kids,” Sam said.Brianna was back in twenty seconds. “Eighty-two, boss.”“About a third,” Jack observed. “A third of what’s left.”“Wait. Make that eighty-eight,” Brianna said. “And a dog.”Lana, looking deeply irritated—a fairly usual expression for her—and Sanjit, looking happy—a fairly usual expression for him—and Sanjit’s siblings were trotting along to catch up.“I don’t know if we’re staying up there or not,” Lana said without preamble. “I want to check it out. And my room smells like crap.”Just before the time was up, Sam heard a stir. Kids were making a lane for someone, murmuring. His heart leaped.“Hey, Sam.”He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Diana?”“Not expecting me, huh?” She made a wry face. “Where’s blondie? I didn’t see her at the big pep rally.”“Are you coming with us?” Brianna demanded, obviously not happy about it.“Is Caine okay with this?” Sam asked Diana. “It’s your choice, but I need to know if he’s going to come after us to take you back.”“Caine has what he wants,” Diana said.“Maybe I should call Toto over,” Sam said. The truth teller was having a conversation with Spidey. “I could ask you whether you’re coming along to spy for Caine, and see what Toto has to say.”Diana sighed. “Sam, I have bigger problems than Caine. And so do you, I guess. Because the FAYZ is going to do something it’s never done before: grow by one.”“What’s that mean?”“You are going to be an uncle.”Sam stared blankly. Brianna said a very rude word. And even Dekka looked up.“You’re having a baby?” Dekka asked.“Let’s hope so,” Diana said bleakly. “Let’s hope that’s all it is.

This is so funny,” said Ellen, noticing the seating arrangement. “Isn’t this funny? Tom, come sit next to Robin. Griffin, sit next to Laura.”tI stood up and sat next to Robin while Griffin brought his chair over to Laura.t“That’s better,” said Ellen. “Isn’t that better?

THE FOUR HEAVENLY FOUNTAINSLaugh, I tell youAnd you will turn backThe hands of time.Smile, I tell youAnd you will reflectThe face of the divine.Sing, I tell youAnd all the angels will sing with you!Cry, I tell youAnd the reflections found in your pool of tears -Will remind you of the lessons of today and yesterdayTo guide you through the fears of tomorrow.

Do you want to achieve something or do you just want to make money?” asked a nearby man in a white shirt to another man in a striped shirt. I waited for the answer as I slowly walked past them. “Why is it an either or question?” the man in the striped shirt finally murmured philosophically under a sip of beer. They both stood there looking at each other in thought.