My apple trees will never get across / And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. / He only says, `Good fences make good neighbours'.
My object in living is to unite My avocation and my vocation As my two eyes make one in sight
My sorrow, when she's here with me, thinks these dark days of autumn rain are beautiful as days can be; she loves the bare, the withered tree; she walks the sodden pasture lane.
Next to nothing for use. But a crop is a crop, And who's to say where The harvest shall stop?
No memory of having starred atones for later disregard, or keeps the end from being hard.
No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.
No wonder poets sometimes have to seem/ So much more business-like than business men./ Their wares are so much harder to get rid of.
Nobody was ever meant , To remember or invent , What he did with every cent.
Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here All simply in the springing of the year.
One aged man -- one man -- can't fill a house.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Originality and initiative are what I ask for my country.
This website focuses on proverbs in the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages, and some parts including the links below have not been translated to English. They are mainly FAQs, various information and webpages for improving the collection.
This website focuses on proverbs in the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages, and some parts including the links below have not been translated to English. They are mainly FAQs, various information and webpages for improving the collection.