How strange it is, he thought, how so many senseless things shape our destiny. For the rifle range had been a senseless thing, as senseless as a billiard table or a game of cards designed for one thing only, to please the keeper of the station. And yet the hours he'd spent there had shaped toward this hour and end, to this single instant on this restricted slope of ground.
Another age shall see the golden ear Imbrown the slope, and nod on the parterre, Deep harvests bury all his pride has planned, And laughing Ceres re-assume the land.Alexander Pope
The deep division of prodigious breasts, The solemn slope of mighty limbs asleep.algernon charles swinburne
The great world's altar-stairs That slope through darkness up to God.Tennyson
The slope takes you to the windmill, but effort takes you nowhere.fernando pessoa
There is no "slippery slope" toward loss of liberty, only a long staircase where each step down must first be tolerated by the American people and their leaders.alan k. simpson
The great world's altar stairsThat slope through darkness up to God.
The safest road to Hell is the gradual one the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.C. S. Lewis
The great world's altar stairs That slope through darkness up to God .
All the woodland path is broken By warm tints along the way, And the low and sunny slope Is alive with sudden hope When there comes the silent token Of an April day, Blue hepatica!
Heaven is not gone, but we are blind with tears, Groping our way along the downward slope of Years!richard henry stoddard
The great world's altar-stairs, that slope thro' darkness up to God.
My garden is a forest ledge Which older forests bound; The banks slope down to the blue lake-edge, Then plunge to depths profound!ralph waldo emerson
The slope takes you to the windmill, but effort takes you nowhere.
Primrose-eyes each morning ope In their cool, deep beds of grass; Violets make the air that pass Tell-tales of their fragrant slope.bayard taylor
All the woodland path is broken By warm tints along the way, And the low and sunny slope Is alive with sudden hope When there comes the silent token Of an April day, Blue hepatica!dora read goodale