Good Morning Quotes and Passages from 5 Famous Books
This is already the fourth and last part of the series of quotes created to spread some joy in these times of the coronavirus pandemic.
Part 2: Enjoy Life Quotes
Part 4: Good Morning Quotes (and Passage from Famous Books)
Good Morning Quotes from The Hobbit
“Good Morning!” said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.
“What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?“
“All of them at once,” said Bilbo. “And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain.
“Good morning!” he said at last. “We don’t want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water.” By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
“What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!” said Gandalf. “Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won’t be good till I move off.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, or There and Back Again
Good Morning Quotes from A Single Man
“So now George has arrived. He is not nervous in
the least. As he gets out of his car, he
feels an upsurge of energy, of eagerness for the play to begin. And he walks eagerly, with
a springy step, along the gravel path past the Music Building toward the Department
office. He is all actor now—an actor on his way up
from the dressing room, hastening
through the backstage world of props and lamps and
stagehands to make his entrance. A
veteran, calm and assured, he pauses for a well-measured moment in the doorway of the
office and then, boldly, clearly, with the subtly modulated British intonation which his
public demands of him, speaks his opening line: “Good morning!”
And the three secretaries—each one of them a charming and accomplished actress in
her own chosen style—recognize him instantly, without even a flicker of doubt, and reply
“Good morning!” to him. (There is something religious here, like responses in church—a
reaffirmation of faith in the basic American dogma
that it is, always, a good morning.
Good, despite the Russians and their rockets, and all the ills and worries of the flesh. For
of course we know, don’t we, that the Russians and
the worries are not really real? They
can be un-thought and made to vanish. And therefore
the morning can be made to be
good. Very well then, it is good.)”
Christopher Isherwood, A Single Man
Good Morning Quote from To The Lighthouse
“So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then. One could be at one’s ease. Mercifully one need not say, very briskly, crossing the lawn to great old Mrs. Beckwith, who would be coming out to find a corner to sit in, “Oh, good-morning, Mrs. Beckwith! What a lovely day! Are you going to be so bold as to sit in the sun? Jasper’s hidden the chairs. Do let me find you one!” and all the rest of the usual chatter. One need not speak at all. One glided, one shook one’s sails (there was a good deal of movement in the bay, boats were starting off) between things, beyond things. Empty it was not, but full to the brim. She seemed to be standing up to the lips in some substance, to move and float and sink in it, yes, for these waters were unfathomably deep. Into them had spilled so many lives. The Ramsays’; the children’s; and all sorts of waifs and strays of things besides. A washerwoman with her basket; a rook; a red-hot poker; the purples and grey-greens of flowers: some common feeling held the whole.”
Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
Good Morning Quotes from Three Men in a Boat
“We were, as I have said, returning from a dip, and half-way up the High Street a cat darted out from one of the houses in front of us, and began to trot across the road. Montmorency gave a cry of joy – the cry of a stern warrior who sees his enemy given over to his hands – the sort of cry Cromwell might have uttered when the Scots came down the hill – and flew after his prey.
His victim was a large black Tom. I never saw a larger cat, nor a more disreputable-looking cat. It had lost half its tail, one of its ears, and a fairly appreciable proportion of its nose. It was a long, sinewy- looking animal. It had a calm, contented air about it.
Montmorency went for that poor cat at the rate of twenty miles an hour; but the cat did not hurry up – did not seem to have grasped the idea that its life was in danger. It trotted quietly on until its would-be assassin was within a yard of it, and then it turned round and sat down in the middle of the road, and looked at Montmorency with a gentle, inquiring expression, that said:
“Yes! You want me?”
Montmorency does not lack pluck; but there was something about the look of that cat that might have chilled the heart of the boldest dog. He stopped abruptly, and looked back at Tom.
Neither spoke; but the conversation that one could imagine was clearly as follows:-
THE CAT: “Can I do anything for you?”
MONTMORENCY: “No – no, thanks.”
THE CAT: “Don’t you mind speaking, if you really want anything, you know.”
MONTMORENCY (BACKING DOWN THE HIGH STREET): “Oh, no – not at all – certainly – don’t you trouble. I – I am afraid I’ve made a mistake. I thought I knew you. Sorry I disturbed you.”
THE CAT: “Not at all – quite a pleasure. Sure you don’t want anything, now?”
MONTMORENCY (STILL BACKING): “Not at all, thanks – not at all – very kind of you. Good morning.”
THE CAT: “Good-morning.”
Then the cat rose, and continued his trot; and Montmorency, fitting what he calls his tail carefully into its groove, came back to us, and took up an unimportant position in the rear.
To this day, if you say the word “Cats!” to Montmorency, he will visibly shrink and look up piteously at you, as if to say:
Jerome K. Jerome, Three men in a boat
Good Morning Quote from Richard Cory
“Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
‘Good-morning,’ and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich–yes, richer than a king–
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.”
Edward Arlington Robinson, Richard Cory’s untold story