Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats.

May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.

I can never stop thanking you. If I never stop, I never need to say farewell. A river rushes between us. You follow it north, I pursue it south. When I weep because I miss you, my tears will seep through your cavern. Your face is kind as a shawl in winter, or a diamond for a song. My family keeps an inn. You have a chamber in my heart. No rent is due. Farewell. Farewell.

Here the train was halted. The Scotch half-breed slowly retraced his steps to the camp they had left. The men ceased talking. A revolver-shot rang out. The man came back hurriedly. The whips snapped, the bells tinkled merrily, the sleds churned along the trail; but Buck knew, and every dog knew, what had taken place behind the belt of river trees.

Jumped in the river, what did I see? Black-eyed angels swam with me A moonful of stars and astral cars And all the figures I used to see All my lovers were there with me All my past and futures And we all went to heaven in a little row boat There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

A river cuts through rock, not because of its power, but because of its persistence

Days have a way of slipping past like raindrops in a river.

When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there.

TWENTY bridges from Tower to Kew – Wanted to know what the River knew, Twenty Bridges or twenty-two, For they were young, and the Thames was old And this is the tale that River told.

he virtues are lost in self-interest as rivers are lost in the sea.

Puberty for a girl is like floating down a broadening river into an open sea.

I was as pure as a river, But now I think I’m possessed, You put a fever inside me, And I’ve been cold since you left.

Time flows away like the water in the river.

He whose pure mind turns inward and searches whence does this ‘I’ arise, knows the Self and merges in You, the Lord, as a river into the sea.

Cicero called Aristotle a river of flowing gold, and said of Plato’s Dialogues, that if Jupiter were to speak, it would be in language like theirs.

You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it.

Sometimes there’s just no way to hold back the river.

A Woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing. She goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself.

How many rivers do we have to cross, before we can talk to the boss?

Time is a river without banks.

Can anything be stupider than that a man has the right to kill me because he lives on the other side of a river and his ruler has a quarrel with mine, though I have not quarrelled with him?

Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.

We might say that the earth has a spirit of growth; that its flesh is the soil, its bones the arrangement and connection of the rocks of which the mountains are composed, its cartilage the tufa, and its blood the springs of water.

Time is a smooth river for the one who does not notice it, and fierce and brutal for the one who gazes at it and is snatched by the abyss.