The morning, which is the most memorable season of the day, is the awakening hour. Then there is least somnolence in us; and for an hour, at least, some part of us awakes which slumbers all the rest of the day and night.
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
And open field, through which the pathway wound,
And homeward led my steps. Magnificent
The morning rose, in memorable pomp,
Glorious as e’er I had beheld—in front,
The sea lay laughing at a distance; near,
The solid mountains shone, bright as the clouds,
Grain-tinctured, drenched in empyrean light;
—William Wordsworth (1770–1850)
There are no days in life so memorable as those which vibrated to some stroke of the imagination.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)