Rhyming Motivational Quotes

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The good men of every age are those who go to the roots of the old thoughts and bear fruit with them.
Friedrich Nietzsche (The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs)
Let it shine, the light in you. Oh, and that's delighting me! Various colors shining through. Elated, it fills my soul with ecstasy.
Ana Claudia Antunes (A-Z of Happiness: Tips for Living and Breaking Through the Chain that Separates You from Getting That Dream Job)
The human creature is so astonishing, but count on it before anything else to be just that-a creature. A laughing animal, a dangerous one, a clever one, a scared one, but always acting for a reason-a motive that will move the beast towards its desires.
Jeffery Deaver (The Bone Collector (Lincoln Rhyme, #1))
Bat, fly high. Pumpkin, sit. Black cat, cry. Spider, knit. Wicken, chant. Phantom, moan. Mummy, rant. Zombie, groan. Werewolf, howl. Owl, hoot. Goblin, growl. Pirate, loot. Skeleton, Frankenstein, Curse the sun. Poem, rhyme.
Richelle E. Goodrich (Being Bold: Quotes, Poetry, & Motivations for Every Day of the Year)
When looking for a better half, LOVE seems to be at the farthest of personal considerations. You just wanna find one whom you will rhyme with. Rhythm fills your world with the right motivation for growth and living. So, finding a good better half is based on luck.
Don Santo
is not everything that we consider important our betrayer ? It shows where our motives lie, and where our motives are altogether lacking.
Friedrich Nietzsche (The Gay Science with a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs)
Thoughts are ideas scattered in your head. When written forms a sentence. When rhymed, it forms a phrase and singing it blooms a beautiful poem.
Napoleon, as the perfect and elaborate type of one passion, belongs to antique humanity: whose characteristics — the simple construction and ingenious formation and fiction of one motive or a few motives — may be easily recognised.
Friedrich Nietzsche (The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs)
She exuded abundant joie de vivre. Her joy was unconfined and unrestrained, it had no rhyme or reason, no grounds or motive, nothing had to happen to make her overflow with jollity. Of course, I sometimes saw her momentarily sad, weeping openly when she thought rightly or wrongly that someone had insulted her, or shamelessly sobbing in a sad film, or crying over a poignant page in a novel. But her sadness was always firmly enclosed within brackets of powerful joy, like hot spring water that no snow or ice could cool because its heat flowed straight from the core of the earth.
Amos Oz (A Tale of Love and Darkness)
When I think of the desire to do something, how it continually tickles and stimulates millions of young Europeans, who cannot endure themselves and all their ennui. I conceive that there must be a desire in them to suffer something, in order to derive from the suffering a worthy motive for acting, for doing something. Distress is necessary! Hence the cry of the politicians, hence the many false trumped up exaggerated "states of distress" of all possible kinds, and the blind readiness to believe in them. This young world desires that there should arrive from the outside - not happiness but misfortune; and their imagination is already busy beforehand to form a monster out of it, so that they may afterwards be able to fight with a monster.
Friedrich Nietzsche (The Gay Science: With a Prelude in Rhymes and an Appendix of Songs)
[J.Ivy:] We are all here for a reason on a particular path You don't need a curriculum to know that you are part of the math Cats think I'm delirious, but I'm so damn serious That's why I expose my soul to the globe, the world I'm trying to make it better for these little boys and girls I'm not just another individual, my spirit is a part of this That's why I get spiritual, but I get my hymns from Him So it's not me, it's He that's lyrical I'm not a miracle, I'm a heaven-sent instrument My rhythmatic regimen navigates melodic notes for your soul and your mental That's why I'm instrumental Vibrations is what I'm into Yeah, I need my loot by rent day But that is not what gives me the heart of Kunte Kinte I'm tryina give us "us free" like Cinque I can't stop, that's why I'm hot Determination, dedication, motivation I'm talking to you, my many inspirations When I say I can't, let you or self down If I were of the highest cliff, on the highest riff And you slipped off the side and clinched on to your life in my grip I would never, ever let you down And when these words are found Let it been known that God's penmanship has been signed with a language called love That's why my breath is felt by the deaf And why my words are heard and confined to the ears of the blind I, too, dream in color and in rhyme So I guess I'm one of a kind in a full house Cuz whenever I open my heart, my soul, or my mouth A touch of God reigns out [Chorus] [Jay-Z (Kanye West)] Who else you know been hot this long, (Oh Ya, you know we ain't finished) Started from nothing but he got this strong, (The ROC is in the building) Built the ROC from a pebble, pedalled rock before I met you, Pedalled bikes, got my nephews pedal bikes because they special, Let you tell that man I'm falling, Well somebody must've caught him, Cause every fourth quarter, I like to Mike Jordan 'em, Number one albums, what I got like four of dem, More of dem on the way, The Eight Wonder on the way, Clear the way, I'm here to stay, Y'all can save the chitter chat, this and that, this and Jay, Dissin' Jay 'ill get you mased, When I start spitting them lyrics, niggas get very religious, Six Hail Maries, please Father forgive us, Young, the Archbishop, the Pope John Paul of y'all niggas, The way y'all all follow Jigga, Hov's a living legend and I tell you why, Everybody wanna be Hov and Hov still alive.
Kanye West
People in your life leave you a rhyme, On leaving they leave a new footprint in the Sands of Time.
Adhish Mazumder
To remember people’s names, use rhyming, rhythm, adjectives, and alliteration—Use rhyming (trim Kim), rhythm (Sally sells seashells), adjectives (kind Kevin), and alliteration (Mike likes milk). These ideas may sound silly, but they stimulate your mind to improve your memory.
Susan C. Young (The Art of Communication: 8 Ways to Confirm Clarity & Understanding for Positive Impact(The Art of First Impressions for Positive Impact, #5))
A serial killer is a rare and specific criminal profile. In males the motives’re sexual in nature usually, or nonsexual sadism. And while there’s ritualistic behavior, that’s limited in most cases to binding or arranging the victims in certain ways or leaving fetishes at the scene or taking trophies, postmortem. The behavior doesn’t rise to the Composer’s level of elaborate staging—the videos, the noose, the music. He’s a multiple perpetrator.” Silence
Jeffery Deaver (The Burial Hour (Lincoln Rhyme, #13))
Beauty can be born out of not only love, but also pain and other motivations.
Following Whispers (Proceed With Awesome: A Poetic Voyage)
It's dark out there, the path is not clear, but there's nothin' to fear, There's a spark glowin' from within that'll never ever disappear.
patrick cruz
But his sister Ivy was worse. She really did not care for material wealth. The alms she got was no bigger than ours, and she went about in scuffed, flat-heeled shoes and shirtwaists—just to show how selfless she was. She was our Director of Distribution. She was the lady in charge of our needs. She was the one who held us by the throat. Of course, distribution was supposed to be decided by voting—by the voice of the people. But when the people are six thousand howling voices, trying to decide without yardstick, rhyme or reason, when there are no rules to the game and each can demand anything, but has a right to nothing, when everybody holds power over everybody’s life except his own—then it turns out, as it did, that the voice of the people is Ivy Starnes. By the end of the second year, we dropped the pretense of the ‘family meetings’—in the name of ‘production efficiency and time economy,’ one meeting used to take ten days—and all the petitions of need were simply sent to Miss Starnes’ office. No, not sent. They had to be recited to her in person by every petitioner. Then she made up a distribution list, which she read to us for our vote of approval at a meeting that lasted three-quarters of an hour. We voted approval. There was a ten-minute period on the agenda for discussion and objections. We made no objections. We knew better by that time. Nobody can divide a factory’s income among thousands of people, without some sort of a gauge to measure people’s value. Her gauge was bootlicking. Selfless? In her father’s time, all of his money wouldn’t have given him a chance to speak to his lousiest wiper and get away with it, as she spoke to our best skilled workers and their wives. She had pale eyes that looked fishy, cold and dead. And if you ever want to see pure evil, you should have seen the way her eyes glinted when she watched some man who’d talked back to her once and who’d just heard his name on the list of those getting nothing above basic pittance. And when you saw it, you saw the real motive of any person who’s ever preached the slogan: ‘From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.
Ayn Rand (Atlas Shrugged)
So my dear That is why I rhyme Why I waste no time Because I see what others Will not dare I’m willing to question authority Because I’m bold and I care That’s why you say I’m rare
Aida Mandic
Skipping Rhyme for Graduates I’ve got the motive. I’ve got the stamina. I’m going to kill The external examiner. Let crows and vultures Pick at the carcass After I’ve murdered The stingiest of markers. Bring out the bin-bags. Bring out the spades. Bring down the evil sod Who brings down the grades. Give me an alibi. Give me a gun. Wanted a first But I got a two-one. Just missed a first By a fragment of a fraction. Justice is called for, Justice and action. What a bloody miser! What a bloody crook! Won’t mark another paper. Won’t write another book. Won’t see his bloody name In another bloody journal. Bye-bye, examiner. Bye-bye, external.
Sophie Hannah (Marrying the Ugly Millionaire: New and Collected Poems)
Literally, the grace & hesitation of modal descent, the rhyme unbearable, the coming down through the prepared delay and once again we are there, beholding the complete elation of our end. Each move into the home world is that same loss; we do mimic the return and the pulse very slightly quickens, as our motives flare in the warm hearth. What I have is then already lost, is so much there I can only come down to it again, my life slips into music & increasingly I cannot take much more of this. The end cadence deferred like breathing, the birthplace of the poet: all put out their lights and take their instruments away with them. How can we sustain such constant loss.
J.H. Prynne (The White Stones)
As the years slip by, we can drift apart, Friends becoming strangers, breaking heart to heart. But do not despair, for this is nature's way, Ebbing and flowing, like the tides of each day. Hold tight to those bonds that stand the test of time, Cherish each moment, like a precious rhyme.
NITISH THAKUR (Small Guide to Start Business: Learn Basics of Business)
I see the world in a different way, A gift that comes with challenges each day. My mind is wired in a unique fashion, But my pen and paper are my greatest passion. Words flow freely from my mind, In ways that are hard to define. They dance and twirl, they sing and rhyme, A kaleidoscope of colors, a symphony of time. My writing is my voice, my soul's expression, A way to communicate without hesitation. It's a bridge that connects me to the world, A gift that helps me to be heard. Though my struggles may be many, My writing is a place where I feel plenty. A space where I can be myself, And share my thoughts without anyone else. So I'll keep writing, day by day, And let my words light up the way. For in my writing, I find my strength, And the power to go to any length. I have a non verbal learning disorder, A condition that can make life harder. But when I write, I feel free, And my words help me to be me. My writing is a gift that I treasure, A source of joy that brings me pleasure. It's a way to express what's in my heart, And share my thoughts in a world apart. In a world that often misinterprets, My writing is a way to connect. It gives me a voice that's loud and clear, And helps me to overcome my fear. For though my words may stumble and falter, They are the key to my soul's altar. A place where I can be myself, And share my thoughts with anyone else. So I'll keep writing, day by day, And let my words lead the way. For in my writing, I find my voice, And the strength to make my own choice.
D.L. Lewis
Just Keep Grinning Till The World Stops Spinning
Chetan Gowda
See I woke up to this God-body movement, three eyes wide open to this God-mind blueprint. The dynamic of this climax at the peak of a God-conscious is what I seek. Subliminally, I speak fluent, 10 figure mind, I just do it. Life unravels its turmoils and these pen to paper sessions ease my pain and free my mind as I watch the rain, looking through the souls window for a sign. Take you pass the senses into the sixth, take you into a place of paradise and bliss in all but only a few notice.
Jose R. Coronado (The Land Flowing With Milk And Honey)
Heart’s revolt I remember her song, I remember her soft breathing rhymes, She lies within me just like the water to the ocean does belong, She is the wonder of my past that her memories carry into my present times, I think of her in all my heart’s appropriateness, I feel her still everywhere and in everything, In my mind’s every thought and in its wakefulness, And in my dreams she still appears as the most beautiful thing, I am facing an eviction of different kind, I am voluntarily surrendering all feelings that do not bear her hints, Although my mind is least pliant and it doesn't want to unwind, Although my heart throbs for me, deep in its chambers it only her feelings mints, I helplessly watch my own mind and heart in this act of revolt, I face them both in the clamor of day and the silence of nights, And I feel their enormous bolt, And now, I am used to them both, and now; we three have become the sources of our own secret delights, I may be a traveler on the highway of life, I may be seeking what we all seek from it, But when you realise a pliable mind and a pliant heart do not represent the fullness of life, You fall in love with her, and the feeling grows deeper, until the feeling becomes a part of you and you become a part of it!
Javid Ahmad Tak (They Loved in 2075!)