Sunday Quotes

Smile more than you cry, Give more than you take, and Love more than you Hate.

Winning is contagious, you know its a thought. It's not something that just happens on Sundays. You know that's something, like you have to live like a winner. You have to think like a winner. You have to eat like a winner. Everything that you do with life, you gotta be a winner.

Most people can't bear to sit in church for an hour on Sundays. How are they supposed to live somewhere very similar to it for eternity?

Let's go to Brunch. What a great idea! Why would you want to sleep in on a Sunday when you can go pay $18 for eggs? Now, you're thinking.

Champagne makes you feel like it's Sunday and better days are just around the corner.

Anything goes on any given Sunday, especially Monday Night.

I have balls the size of grapefruits and come this Sunday, you'll be spitting out the seeds.

Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.

On any given Sunday you're gonna win or you're gonna lose. The point is -- can you win or lose like a man?

The Sunday morning service shows how popular your church is. The evening services show how popular your pastor is. Your private prayer time shows you how popular God is!

'Twas Easter-Sunday. The full-blossomed trees Filled all the air with fragrance and with joy.

Sunday morning in America is the greatest hour of idolatry in the whole week. Why? Because most people who are even worshiping God, are worshiping a God they don't know. They're worshiping a god that looks more like Santa Claus than the God of Scripture. They're worshiping a god that is a figment of their own imagination. They created a god in their own likeness and they worship the god they've made.

Satan gets disturbed -and defeated -when you decide to do more that be a Sunday-morning Christian.

Sunday, January 27, 1884. -- There was another story in the paper a week or so since. A gentleman had a favourite cat whom he taught to sit at the dinner table where it behaved very well. He was in the habit of putting any scraps he left onto the cat's plate. One day puss did not take his place punctually, but presently appeared with two mice, one of which it placed on its master's plate, the other on its own.

Always strive to excel, but only on weekends.

Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.

Have your heart right with Christ, and he will visit you often, and so turn weekdays into Sundays, meals into sacraments, homes into temples, and earth into heaven.

I thought a lot about our Nation and what I should do as President. And Sunday night before last, I made a speech about two problems of our countryenergy and malaise.

Someone has somewhere commented on the fact that millions long for immortality who don't know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the color of red-flannel petticoats whisked past the harp-shaped hills, when we sang and wallowed all night and day in caves that smelt like Sunday afternoons in damp front farmhouse parlors, and we chased, with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears, before the motor car, before the wheel, before the duchess-faced horse, when we rode the daft and happy hills bareback, it snowed and it snowed.

For Sunday breakfast, I make orange and ricotta pancakes, crepes and eggs. You know men, we usually go for breakfast because it's the easiest thing to cook and then we try to make it seem fancy.

How can we worship a homeless man on Sunday and ignore one on Monday?

What we do on Sunday absolutely doesn't matter unless it meets us on Monday. Changes us on Monday. Transforms us on Monday.

When lip service to some mysterious deity permits bestiality on Wednesday and absolution on Sunday, cash me out.

I saw no African people in the printed and illustrated Sunday school lessons. I began to suspect at this early age that someone had distorted the image of my people. My long search for the true history of African people the world over began.

If you preachers would start winning souls everywhere you go, you wouldn't have to get a book of illustrations to preach from next Sunday.

Nothing is so musical as the sound of pouring bourbon for the first drink on a Sunday morning. Not Bach or Schubert or any of those masters.

One rainy Sunday when I was in the third grade, I picked up a book to look at the pictures and discovered that even though I did not want to, I was reading. I have been a reader ever since.

I don’t feel pressure. I don’t give a toss about it. I spent the afternoon of Sunday, July 9, 2006 in Berlin sleeping and playing the PlayStation. In the evening, I went out and won the World Cup.

Do not let Sunday be taken from you. If your soul has no Sunday, it becomes an orphan.

After I'd preached a message on Sunday night, I'd print it up.

We all need to start making some changes to how our families eat. Now, everyone loves a good Sunday dinner. Me included. And there's nothing wrong with that. The problem is when we eat Sunday dinner Monday through Saturday.

People used to wear ordinary clothes weekdays, and formal attire on Sunday. Today it is the exact reverse.

It's not enough to attend church and pray every Sunday; you have to act.

My favorite meal would have to be good old-fashioned eggs, over easy, with bacon. Many others, but you can't beat that on a Sunday morning, especially with a cup of tea.

Do what your momma tells you to do, go to sunday school, go to church, and when you die, you'll go to Statesboro.

I'm going to marry a Jewish woman because I like the idea of getting up Sunday morning and going to the deli.

My mother doesn't cook; my grandmother didn't cook. Her kids were raised by servants. They would joke about Sunday night dinner. It was the only night she would cook, and apparently it was just horrendous, like scrambled eggs and Campbell's soup.

I cannot imagine any boy of spirit who would not be delighted to play a drunkard even to vomiting in front of his Sunday school. Indeed, the vomiting might be the chief attraction of the role.

The newsprint thesp celebrity interview as a middle-brow art form suffers from desperate overproduction. There'll be at least 10 in the broadsheets today and every Sunday hereafter.

There are a lot more TV sets in use on Monday night than on Sunday afternoon.

Sunday night meant, in the dark, wintry, rainy Midlands ... anywhere where two creatures might stand and squeeze together and spoon.... Spooning was a fine art, whereas kissing and cuddling are calf-processes.

I don’t claim to be knowledgeable about theology. Most of my knowledge comes out of my experience and the lessons in the Bible. Every Sunday I’m home I teach 45 minutes and we boiled them down to one page for the new book, “Through the Year with Jimmy Carter.”

The Foxy character and Inga Marchand are two different people. My fiance calls me Inga. No one around me calls me Foxy. I go to church every Sunday. I go to Bible study every Friday night. I'm saved.

The fable of Christ and his twelve apostles is a parody of the sun and the twelve signs of the Zodiac, copied from the ancient religions of the Eastern world. Every thing told of Christ has reference to the sun. His reported resurrection is at sunrise, and that on the first day of the week; that is, on the day anciently dedicated to the sun, and from thence called Sunday.

I asked my priest if it was a sin to play golf on Sunday. And he said, "It's a sin for you to play anytime."

You can't go out and practice average on Wednesday, average on Thursday, okay on Friday and then expect to play well on Sunday.

It's easy for me not to go to Mass on the road. But I've made a fundamental decision. I'm going to be dedicated. I'm going to make the time. I'm going to get up, if that means getting up at seven on a Sunday morning before a day game and do it, I'm going to do it.

You know, these guys want to talk about God; 'Oh, I want to thank God. I want to thank God.' Listen, I'm a God-fearing man, go to church every Sunday and have since I was a boy. But if I ever found out that God cared one way or another about a borderline illegal fist-fight on Saturday night, I would be so greatly disappointed that it would make rethink my entire belief system.

We stopped eating meat many years ago. During the course of a Sunday lunch we happened to look out of the kitchen window at our young lambs playing happily in the fields. Glancing down at our plates, we suddenly realized that we were eating the leg of an animal who had until recently been playing in a field herself. We looked at each other and said, "Wait a minute, we love these sheep-they're such gentle creatures. So why are we eating them?" It was the last time we ever did.