Since the dawn of time every one will die, Let the history books note my death with loyalty at heart.
It's always darkness before the dawn.
But He is risen, a later star of dawn.
It was the dawn of the third age of mankind.
Beauty is like life itself: a dawn mist the sun burns off. It gives no peace, no rest.
Memories, how they linger in the twilight and in the wee small hours sometimes just before dawn.
Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.
How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
With all the strength of my soul, I testify that God lives, that His Beloved Son is the firstfruits of the Resurrection, that the gospel of Jesus Christ is that penetrating light that makes of every hopeless dawn a joyful morning.
Red Dawn' was very resonant with a lot of people - they love that movie. I always thought it was a little hysterical.
Once, at the dreaming dawn of history -- before the world was categorized and regulated by mortal minds, before solid boundaries formed between the mortal world and any other -- fairies roamed freely among men, and the two races knew each other well. Yet the knowing was never straightforward, and the adventures that mortals and fairies had together were fraught with uncertainty, for fairies and humans were alien to each other.
Sometimes, the darkest part of the morning is just before dawn
The disembodied spirit is immortal; there is nothing of it that can grow old or die. But the embodied spirit sees death on the horizon as soon as its day dawns.
One rose is enough for the dawn
To wake in that desert dawn was like waking in the heart of an opal. . . . See the desert on a fine morning and die - if you can!
The single sculler, alone on the river at dawn, or spotlighted in his lane during a race, is th emost romantic, the most quixotic figure in all rowing.
Where others see but the dawn coming over the hill, I see the soul of God shouting for joy.
Why is it that the finish line always tends to appear just after the point at which we most want to give up? is it the universe's way of reserving the best for those who can give the most? What I do know, from nature, is that the dawn only appears after the darkest hour.
Those to whom worshiping is a window, to open but also to shut, have not yet visited the house of their souls whose windows are open from dawn to dawn.
Your god must once have stood at a dawn of infinite possibilities, and this is what he's made of it. You tell me that I want God's love? I don't. Perhaps I want forgiveness, but there's no-one to ask it of. And there's no going back, there's no setting things right, there's only the hope of nothingness.