All world was one, one windy ...

All world was one, one windy nothing,
My world was christened in a stream of milk.
All world was one, one windy nothing, My world was christened in a stream of milk.
 Dylan Thomas

More phrases

Being self-made is a state of mind, and once you put that mentality to work, your success will come.
 Dave East
A lot of people change for good. Some people just fall off. Just trying to progress in anything, no matter what you're doing, I feel like any progression you make... some people aren't gonna be around you that were around you.
 Dave East
There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure.
Once you get the nod, your mentality totally changes. It's like a heavyweight fighter-you win the title and that's it, you don't want to look back and you don't want to change. That's the way I feel and I'm looking to keep the job.?
 Mark Sanchez
Inspirational leaders need to have a winning mentality in order to inspire respect. It is hard to trust in the leadership of someone who is half-hearted about their purpose, or only sporadic in focus or enthusiasm.
 Sebastian Coe

Quotes from the same author

I love you so much I’ll never be able to tell you; I’m frightened to tell you. I can always feel your heart. Dance tunes are always right: I love you body and soul: —and I suppose body means that I want to touch you and be in bed with you, and i suppose soul means that i can hear you and see you and love you in every single, single thing in the whole world asleep or awake
 Dylan Thomas
I know in London a Welsh hairdresser who has striven so vehemently to abolish his accent that he sounds like a man speaking with the Elgin marbles in his mouth.
 Dylan Thomas
Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.
 Dylan Thomas
The best poem is that whose worked-upon unmagical passages come closest, in texture and intensity, to those moments of magical accident.
 Dylan Thomas
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.
 Dylan Thomas