If you're quiet, you're not living. You've got to be noisy and colorful and lively.
quote by Mel Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Openings For New Occupancies
To dwell in sorrow,
Has to be a noisy experience.
Where there is little peace,
That exists.
Especially living in a place,
Where there is rarely a vacancy.
And leaving those to await patiently,
For a date announcing...
Openings for new occupancies.
It has to be noisy,
Living and sharing mindsets like these!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Such Homeland
living on this island
Underneath is getter warmer
Warmer, we are the same
With heart, with eyes flashes
Flashes every pieces of you
Every day of life
Life of the village
With green, with colorful
Colorful days, colorful ways
Ways of my dream
Coming true
You will not find a soulmate in the quiet of your room. You must go to a noisy place and look in the quiet corners.
quote by Robert Brault
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
The true Church is not an organization, nor does one join it through the noisy mechanics of denominational machinery. Rather it is a living organism, a body, and believers are joined to it by the quiet working of the Holy Spirit.
quote by Cornelius Stam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Colorful
Written by brian vander ark
The show is over close the story book
There will be no encore
And all the random hands that I have shook
Well theyre reaching for the door
I watch their backs as they leave single file
But you stood stubborn, cheering all the while
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be gray
But I know this losers living fortunate
Cause I know you will love me either way
Most were being good for goodness sake
But you wouldnt pantomime
You are more beautiful when you awake
Than most are in a lifetime
Through the haze that is my memory well
You stayed for drama though you paid for a comedy
I know I can be colorful
I know I can be gray
But I know this losers living fortunate
Cause I know you will love me either way
Look ahead as far as you can see
Well live in drama but well die in a comedy
I know I can be colorful...
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Butterflies
As sun rises
Colorful butterflies
Throng my garden
Sit on the colorful flowers
Make them more colorful
Add beauty to them
I am forced to think
Can we not learn from?
Butterflies
Add color to the lives of
Fellow human beings
Make them more happy
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O those colorful old days - Original by Rabindranath Tagore
Those days have left my gold cage
O those colorful old days
They have untied knots of
Pain and joy in so many ways
O those colorful old days!
They will learn the craft of
Writing songs from my soul –
It was their intention
I know it was their goal!
Without saying a word at this stage
They all have flown away in their ways!
O those colorful old days!
I dream, they are roaming
Around my broken cage
For someone of those days
For someone I can guess.
O those colorful old days!
Is this pain for nothing!
Are they birds of shadow?
Haven’t they flapped their wings?
I have heard sound, I know!
Without saying a word at this stage
They all have flown away in their ways!
O those colorful old days!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If Peace Is Bliss..
If peace is bliss
Bliss is my night
Sleep-loaded
Not sweetened not tainted
Not dreamy not noisy
Not lively not deadly
Not even heavenly not even godly
Beyond words
Sound bliss silent
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I love quiet places, like parks or beaches, because you get to learn more about a person when there is nothing else around.
quote by Eric Lively
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
City Man You'd Best Go Back To Town
City man you'd best go back to town
If living in the country gets you down
And though the songbirds sing with voices sweet
You'd much prefer the noisy city street.
These rural towns are quiet as quiet can be
There's so little to do and less to see
Save go into a pub and drink your fill
And come out feeling much more lonely still.
Pleasant is the music of the thrushes
And fragrant is the scent of flowering bushes
Here the air is pure and free of taint
But you would rather live midst smoke and paint.
City man you miss your city kin
You've little in common with rural men,
You've little love for peaceful country life,
You'd much prefer to live where noise is rife.
You are like a fisherman ashore
He find inland life is quite a bore
Unhappy the poor fisherman will be
Until he returns to his beloved sea.
City man the city's calling you
Go bid the lonely countryside adieu,
Your urge for city living's always strong
It is where a man is raised that he belong.
City man go back to your own kind
And leave this sense of loneliness behind
Country life it isn't to your taste
Go back home to the city in a haste.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Who does she think she is....
I asked the Zebra:
Are you black with white stripes?
Or white with black stripes?
And the zebra asked me:
Are you good with bad habits?
Or are you bad with good habits?
Are you noisy with quiet times?
Or are you quiet with noisy times?
Are you happy with some sad days?
Or are you sad with some happy days?
Are you neat with some sloppy ways?
Or are you sloppy with some neat ways?
And on and on and on and on
And on and on he went.
I’ll never ask a zebra
About stripes
Again
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something More
Augustine just woke up with a broken heart
All this time, he's never been awake before
At 31, his whole world is a question mark
All this time, he's never been awake before
Watching dreams that he once had
Feed the flame inside his head
In a quiet desperation of the emptiness he says
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
Augustine, all his fears keep falling out
All this time, he's never been awake before
Finding out his old dreams aren't panning out
All this time, he's never been awake before
And he's mad to be alive
And he's dying to be met
In a quiet desperation of the emptiness he says
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
Hey, I gave it all away
Nothing I was holding back remains
Hey, I gave it all away
Looking for the grace of God again
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you
There's gotta be something more
Than what I'm living for
I'm crying out to you...
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Am A Fish!
I dream of sea
deep beautiful blue sea
I am a fish, a colorful fish
that's what I wish
I dream of water
dancing with the waves
to be a colorful fish
that's my wish!
I dream of wind
touching softly the sea
taking me, the colorful fish
deep deep under the sea!
I dream of love
you being a fish like me
that is all what I wish, dear sea
to be a fish, happy and free!
poem by Arta Krasniqi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Colorful Old Days
Baby I can’t forget those
Colorful old days
Baby I can’t forget your
Charming pretty face
Baby I can’t forget your
Beautiful dresses
Baby I can’t forget your
Body language
Baby I can’t forget our
Friendship and closeness
Baby I can’t forget those
Colorful old days
Dhha Dhha Dhha Dhha
Dhha Dhhang Dhhang
Colorful old days
(Music)
Colorful old days
------
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stranger On A Quiet Street
When all the thrills have been forgotten
The chill of night can call them home
And all the dreams that you left stranded
Will slowly start to come along
I felt it as she slipped away, slipped away
I didnt have the words to say
When I saw the stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
You can go straight as an arrow
You can go straight as you dare
Walkin the old straight and narrow
Dont always get you there
The sun was shining when I saw it all
She was moving to a different beat
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
It came to me out of the blue, out of the blue
There came the moment that I really knew
When I met a stranger
A stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street, on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
Stranger on a quiet street
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Dream Home
My dream home would be a log home in the city
Downstairs would be the kitchen with the laundryroom in it
And a storage area
Also there would be a family room with a living room
The log home would have 4 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms
In the hall of the log home would be the linen closset
At the front of the log home there would be the stone driveway
But at the back of the log home there would be the indoor garden so that We could use it all year round
The floor in the log home would be wood
And the walls in the log home would be beige
There would be Ikea furniture inside of the log home
Also the neighbourhood would be a well established neighbourhood
But very quiet indeed
Not too much traffic
The parks nearby would be very sophisticated with colorful
Flowers and beautiful trees
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living So Close
I think these people must be mad
In row after row and en bloc;
Living so closely together
As starlings, in one seething flock.
I hear that noisy Lab' next door
And the other, next door but one;
If things were up to me, I know
That both would soon be gone.
These people must be crazy
Putting up with all that din;
If push should come to shove
I wonder just which one would win?
How do they sleep in their beds at night?
Their heads must be all of a fog;
Living so close to the enemy, but,
What do I know - I'm only a dog!
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Something More (Augustine's Confession)
Augustine just woke up with a broken heart
All this time he's never been awake before
At 31 his whole world is a question mark
All this time he's never been awake before
Watching dreams that he once had
Feed the flame inside his head
In a quiet desperation of the emptiness
He says
"Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you"
"Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you"
Augustine
All his fears keeping falling out
All this time he's never been awake before
Finding out his old dreams aren't panning out
All this time he's never been awake before
But he's mad to be alive
And he's dying to be met
In a quiet desperation of the emptiness
He says
"Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you"
"Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you"
Something more
Hey I give it all away
Nothing I was holding back remains
Hey i give it all away
Looking for the grace of God today
Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you
Theres gotta be something more
Than what i've been before
I'm crying out to you
Theres gotta be something more
Than what i'm living for
I'm crying out to you
Theres gotta be something more
Than what i've been before
I'm crying out to you
Three Four
song performed by by Switchfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In London Town
It is not here I best enjoy
The pleasure, that can never cloy,
Of idly roaming London town,
Where such familiar names look down
Upon the wanderer in the street,
From Cheapside, Cornhill, and the Fleet.
The noisy, pushing, bustling crowd,
The din of trade and traffic loud,
Confuse the too bewildered sense
And drive a thousand memories hence.
When in the quiet town once more,
Where not a murmur of the roar
Of busy trade or loud displays
Disturb the quiet of her ways,
Backward my soul will turn and then
Will walk these London streets again;
While wits and poets of years gone by,
Who now in dim cathedrals lie,
Will meet me where their memories make
The places dearer for their sake —
And with their shades perchance a few
Of living forms shall mingle too.
So, often when the daylight dies,
Shall I at evcning close my eyes
To walk again the Strand, the Fleet,
And every dear familiar street,
And, undisturbed by din or roar,
Find every house and nook once more.
My London, which I carry west,
Is peopled only by her best.
poem by Walter Learned
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silly; Gross: Fart!
Having just exclaimed 'what can I write about? ' I heard a muffled noise,
...followed by a pungent cheesy smell which FEW of your ilk enjoys.
Now farts have gotten a bad reputation....along with burps and belches.
In our society they are THINGS...which a more 'polite' person often squelches.
And I'd say I'm one of the 'more polite'...in my normal daily life; that is except when I'm alone...with my loving, understanding WIFE.
Why even my wife farts on rare occasions.....Don't let her know I've told.
But she generally does it behind a CLOSED door. Unlike me, …she's not so bold.
So 'FART' is what I'll write about tonight, .... stretched out in this chair.
You'll excuse me please if I let one loose...though it MAY foul the air.
Farts come in at least four varieties. I'm sure you all know THAT.
I could break it down to sub-varieties, but I'll KEEP those in my hat.
First there are farts that are quiet and smelly. Not my cup of tea.
At least one should make some noise....so others won't HAVE TO SAY 'not ME'.
Then there are those quiet but NOT smelly; I think women mostly do those.
They give off nothing obnoxious….. to offend your ears or nose.
There are noisy farts that are also smelly. Some would say they're WORST OF ALL.
There are noisy farts that are NOT smelly, ...some like a bugle call.
I've heard of 'farting posts'....used in competitions, ....and
I've heard of using cigarette lighters...to ignite fart emissions.
I've been around dogs that fart and I guess some cows do too.
Probably lots of species fart (now and then) ...not just a FEW.
I believe what's behind all farts...is simply what we.....eat.
If you eat too much or the 'wrong thing'....you MAY be blown....OFF your feet.
Personally that's never happened to me. I'm not lying; ....it's really TRUE.
No 'Captain Ahab' has ever said of me: 'My god! There he blew! '
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!