Nor for my peace will I go far, As wanderers do, that still do roam, But make my strengths, such as they are, Here in my bosom, and at home.
All nature. . . is a respiration Of the Spirit of God, who, in breathing hereafter Will inhale it into his bosom again, So that nothing but God alone will remain.
Rich and various gems inlay The unadorned bosom of the deep.
The mere process of growing old together will make the slightest acquaintance seem a bosom friend.
The babe at first feeds upon the mother's bosom, but it is always on her heart.
What a mighty spirit in a narrow bosom. [Ger. , Welch' hoher Geist in einer engen Brust. ]
There must be something beyond man in this world. Even on attaining to his highest possibilities, he is like a bird beating against his cage. There is something beyond, O deathless like a sea-shell, moaning for the bosom of the ocean to which you belong!
Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private.
No further seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God.
The Christian is not always praying; but within his bosom is a heaven-kindled love--fires of desire, fervent longings--which make him always ready to pray, and often engage him in prayer.
Make a little bouquet of the sufferings of Jesus and carry them in the bosom of the soul.
All that tread, the globe are but a handful to the tribes, that slumber in its bosom.
A serpent is a serpent, and none the less a viper, because it is nestled in the bosom of an honest-hearted man.
I decided it was well past time to take him home and place him in bosom of his family. If you had rather I put him in an orphanage, I fully understand.
This Englishwoman is so refined, She has no bosom and no behind.
Against the long years when family bonds make up all that is happiest in life, there must always be reckoned those moments of agitation and revolution, during which the bosom of a family is the most unrestful and disturbing place in existence.
But one, the lofty follower of the Sun, Sad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves Drooping all night; and, when he warm returns, Points her enamoured bosom to his ray.
It was the ideal of living in Eretz Yisrael that took me out of my house, out of my country and caused me to travel from my place. I left my house; I repudiated my inheritance. . . Why? Because I wished to travel to the bosom of my mother, Eretz Yisrael.
It is often easier to justify one's self to others than to respond to the secret doubts that arise in one's own bosom.
We must not reduce the bosom of the universal church to a nest protecting our mediocrity.