When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive—to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love—then make that day count!

We are living in a ‘one morning’ world; we get up one morning and many things have changed! Tomorrow morning, there will be another ‘one morning!

Welcome a new opportunity gifted to you once again for Happiness, Inspiration, Passion & Courage to endure…The opportunity is known as, “Good Morning

Like a gift, beautifully wrapped at the foot of your bed each morning, today asks that you open it and enjoy everything inside. Exhaust yourself with all it has to offer!

Let me wake up next to you, have coffee in the morning and wander through the city with your hand in mine, and I'll be happy for the rest of my fucked up little life.

Don’t predict the condition of the entire day by the state of the morning. You don’t judge a book by its cover. A cloudy morning is no guarantee for a rainy day!

Do something. Successful achievers wake up in the morning and go to bed in the night. In between their waking up and going to bed is occupied with action, action, action and action.

The city of San Francisco engulfed their view through the front windshield. The dazzling light of the late morning sun transformed every glass and metal surface into a silvery mirage.

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.

A waitress goes up to Winston Churchill and says, 'Sir, your drunk.'To which he replies, 'I may be drunk, miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly.

Two-thirty in the morning was kind of a bitch as times went. It fell into the in-between, nowhere land. Too late to get a really good night's sleep, but much too early to start the day.

Your deceit smells like a fake mustache. Nobody stole my facial hair. I shaved this morning and donated half of it to the Humane Society. The other half I kept for sentimental petting reasons.

I feel as though whenever I create something, my Mr. Hyde wakes up in the middle of the night and starts thrashing it. I sometimes love it the next morning, but other times it is an abomination.

I like the posture, but not the yoga. I like the inebriated morning, but not the opium. I like the flower but not the garden, the moment but not the dream. Quiet, my love. Be still. I am sleeping.

So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.