Uncategorized Quotes - Page 459

To be fruitful is to understand the process of growth

Today, Aaron decided, he would begin to grieve in earnest. He would walk the lonely beach, mocked by gulls, uncaring, his every step a stately rebuke to the malign forces that had blighted his fate. His was the tragedy of a man who couldn't have his own way, and he intended to make known his anguish in the solemn solitude that only a stretch of sand, a suspiring sea, and a beetling cliff could provide.

It’s hard being pissed with a nice car and a good job. Fed up on filet medallions and swimming in chilled martinis. We know what we think and our life here is our reward for thinking it.

I'm going to build that house with my own hands, from the foundation to the roof. I'm going to do it for us, and I'm going to do it right, so it lasts forever. Can't go raising walls on a shaky foundation. Can't go slapping thatch over rafters so thin, they'll topple with the first winter storm. Do you know?"She nodded. "I know."He reached for her hand. "It's the same with us. I mean to build something with you. Something that will last. Much as I want you, I don't want to rush and bollocks it up.

May you allow fear to soften and melt away. May you release all regrets and resentments.

You can achieve your set-goals by God’s grace

Trust acquired through challenged skepticism is infinitely more solid and lasting than passive acceptance.

To ease the loneliness of the bridges, visit them sometimes! The forgotten ones must be remembered! Create some memories with them so that they will feel themselves less lonely! Memories are the enemies of solitude.

If we didn't have shadow we'd just sit around loving the light, likely doing nothing with it.

your thoughts will make you a victor or a victim.

When we contemplate the miracle of embodied life, we begin to partner with our bodies in a kinder way.

Giving up doesn't make you a quiter, a loser or a failure.It makes you wise enough to stop holding on to what refuses to be held.Hence i say, letting go hurts,but holding on to what is no longer therehurts even more.

In the same way you BELIEVED and RECEIVED salvation, so it is with your healing!

For God's sake, have some self-respect and do not run off at the mouth if your brain is out to lunch.

Lovers' language, give me an exact and poetic comparison to say what those eyes of Capitu were like. No image comes to mind that doesn't offend against the rules of good style, to say what they were and what they did to me. Undertow eyes? Why not? Undertow. That's the notion that the new expression put in my head. They held some kind of mysterious, active fluid, a force that dragged one in, like the undertow of a wave retreating from the shore on stormy days. So as not to be dragged in, I held onto anything around them, her ears, her arms, her hair spread about her shoulders; but as soon as I returned to the pupils of her eyes again, the wave emerging from them grew towards me, deep and dark, threatening to envelop me, draw me in and swallow me up.

Unto the Cross came death, and unto death came the Cross.

Making love with you Is like drinking sea water. The more I drink The thirstier I become, Until nothing can slake my thirst But to drink the entire sea.

I'm gonna take all my sadness, frustration, anger and energy and channel it into becoming the best possible student.I AM GOING TO BECOME A LEARNING MACHINE.

Let my memories of you be like water on the moon. A beautiful impossibility - but allowing me to sleep and dream of infinite beginnings rather than Othello endings.

What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human.

I need some kind of... like... last minute, poorly-set-up deus ex machina!!

The garden was full of sorrowSongbirds and unusual winds whistled a rhymeClouds caused to appear and cast down darknessFor this was the first day the sun didn't shine

Heaven . . . is the same feeling. . . . No fear. No dark. When you know you are loved . . . that’s the light.

Perhaps she would have liked to confide all these things to someone. But how tell an undefinable uneasiness, variable as the clouds, unstable as the winds? Words failed her—the opportunity, the courage.

It is the hardest thing of all, the one thing that will show if you have the one true courage. To know that you have failed, that your best efforts have been defeated, to not be able to stand it, to not be able to go on and yet to go on nonetheless.

The advice that I have valued in my own life has never turned on fixed maxims or canned metaphors. More crucially, lists of precepts don't work like targeted advice because lists contain inherently constraining messages. They seem to say that complex matters are knowable, that a given process leads to foreseeable results. It implies a thin and predictable world, whereas the sort of advice that has mattered to me bespeaks a quite tentative optimism, the optimism of the quest whose outcome is finally unknowable.

She could have risen from the ashes. Instead, she smoldered in the embers.

While you’re hating your life just because you can’t get what you want, someone is praying to have a life like yours..!!

Armon stared into the wild darkness of his opponent and saw a reflection of his own fall.

Simplicity allows a measure of freedom which the complexities of modern life greedily consume – freedom to think, to reflect, to create, to serve and be sincerely generous with our time and presence.

The advantages of developing absorption concentration are not only that it provides a stable and receptive state of mind for the practice of insight meditation. The experience of absorption is one of intense pleasure and happiness, brought about by purely mental means, which thereby automatically eclipses any pleasure arising in dependence on material objects. Thus absorption functions as a powerful antidote to sensual desires by divesting them of their former attraction.

When I am high I couldn’t worry about money if I tried. So I don’t. The money will come from somewhere; I am entitled; God will provide. Credit cards are disastrous, personal checks worse. Unfortunately, for manics anyway, mania is a natural extension of the economy. What with credit cards and bank accounts there is little beyond reach. So I bought twelve snakebite kits, with a sense of urgency and importance. I bought precious stones, elegant and unnecessary furniture, three watches within an hour of one another (in the Rolex rather than Timex class: champagne tastes bubble to the surface, are the surface, in mania), and totally inappropriate sirenlike clothes. During one spree in London I spent several hundred pounds on books having titles or covers that somehow caught my fancy: books on the natural history of the mole, twenty sundry Penguin books because I thought it could be nice if the penguins could form a colony. Once I think I shoplifted a blouse because I could not wait a minute longer for the woman-with-molasses feet in front of me in line. Or maybe I just thought about shoplifting, I don’t remember, I was totally confused. I imagine I must have spent far more than thirty thousand dollars during my two major manic episodes, and God only knows how much more during my frequent milder manias.But then back on lithium and rotating on the planet at the same pace as everyone else, you find your credit is decimated, your mortification complete: mania is not a luxury one can easily afford. It is devastating to have the illness and aggravating to have to pay for medications, blood tests, and psychotherapy. They, at least, are partially deductible. But money spent while manic doesn’t fit into the Internal Revenue Service concept of medical expense or business loss. So after mania, when most depressed, you’re given excellent reason to be even more so.

Desire without action will collapse all hope built inside.

Do you want me to call the internet police for you?

The good news is that you are never alone. If you are a man, you are always with your inner feminine side. If you are a woman, you are ways with your inner masculine side. However, we are often disconnected from those inner feminine or masculine qualities. Meditation helps to establish that much needed dialog and connection with your inner self. The more we get in touch with our inner self, the more we experience peace, harmony and bliss.

What I do know is that when a person is first asked to explain what is wrong, they may find it almost impossible to articulate exactly what the problem is. They may not yet have matched words to the feelings they can sense in the hidden rooms of their mind. They may still have no clear ideas about the "what", "why" or "how" relating to the origins of their difficulties. Instead of words, their angst may be expressed in behaviour which may be hard for them, or anyone else, to make sense of and can manifest itself as irritability, anger or withdrawal. Sometimes they will delay seeking help until they are in a state of crisis. It's not easy to ask; I struggled at first, too.

It’s a real handicap to have a face with shifty eyes.

Tam let out a ragged breath, as he fought to reign his emotions back, while the realisation sank in.He was nothing. To Konnor. To Giovanni. To everyone.He was invisible.

If you never fail, that means you never tried to do something impossible.

'We're not... we haven't been writing poetry and sprinkling rose petals and tripping hand in hand under rainbows, Kay.' 'Just because you have Y chromosomes doesn't mean you can't tell each other how you feel, Dylan. Your penises won't fall off if you do.'

...when I see a man or woman alone, he or she looks mysterious to me, which is only to say that for a moment I see another human being clearly.

[W]hat people truly desire is access to the knowledge and information that ultimately lead to a better life--the collected wisdom of the ages found only in one place: a well-stocked library.To the teachers and librarians and everyone on the frontlines of bringing literature to young people: I know you have days when your work seems humdrum, or unappreciated, or embattled, and I hope on those days you will take a few moments to reflect with pride on the importance of the work you do. For it is indeed of enormous importance--the job of safeguarding and sharing the world's wisdom.All of you are engaged in the vital task of providing the next generation with the tools they will need to save the world. The ability to read and access information isn't just a power--it's a superpower. Which means that you aren't just heroes--you're superheroes. I believe that with all my heart.

I’d always enjoyed life, and I knew I would again. But I was going to have to slog through a lot of bad patches to get there

Asking a writer why they like to write {in the theoretical sense of the question} is like asking a person why they breathe. For me, writing is a natural reflex to the beauty, the events, and the people I see around me. As Anais Nin put it, "We write to taste life twice." I live and then I write. The one transfers to the other, for me, in a gentle, necessary way. As prosaic as it sounds, I believe I process by writing. Part of the way I deal with stressful situations, catty people, or great joy or great trials in my own life is by conjuring it onto paper in some way; a journal entry, a blog post, my writing notebook, or my latest story. While I am a fair conversationalist, my real forte is expressing myself in words on paper. If I leave it all chasing round my head like rabbits in a warren, I'm apt to become a bug-bear to live with and my family would not thank me. Some people need counselors. Some people need long, drawn-out phone-calls with a trusted friend. Some people need to go out for a run. I need to get away to a quiet, lonesome corner--preferably on the front steps at gloaming with the North Star trembling against the darkening blue. I need to set my pen fiercely against the page {for at such moments I must be writing--not typing.} and I need to convert the stress or excitement or happiness into something to be shared with another person.The beauty of the relationship between reading and writing is its give-and-take dynamic. For years I gathered and read every book in the near vicinity and absorbed tale upon tale, story upon story, adventures and sagas and dramas and classics. I fed my fancy, my tastes, and my ideas upon good books and thus those aspects of myself grew up to be none too shabby. When I began to employ my fancy, tastes, and ideas in writing my own books, the dawning of a strange and wonderful idea tinged the horizon of thought with blush-rose colors: If I persisted and worked hard and poured myself into the craft, I could create one of those books. One of the heart-books that foster a love of reading and even writing in another person somewhere. I could have a hand in forming another person's mind. A great responsibility and a great privilege that, and one I would love to be a party to. Books can change a person. I am a firm believer in that. I cannot tell you how many sentiments or noble ideas or parts of my own personality are woven from threads of things I've read over the years. I hoard quotations and shadows of quotations and general impressions of books like a tzar of Russia hoards his icy treasures. They make up a large part of who I am. I think it's worth saying again: books can change a person. For better or for worse. As a writer it's my two-edged gift to be able to slay or heal where I will. It's my responsibility to wield that weapon aright and do only good with my words. Or only purposeful cutting. I am not set against the surgeon's method of butchery--the nicking of a person's spirit, the rubbing in of a salty, stinging salve, and the ultimate healing-over of that wound that makes for a healthier person in the end. It's the bitter herbs that heal the best, so now and again you might be called upon to write something with more cayenne than honey about it. But the end must be good. We cannot let the Light fade from our words.

I once dreamt of being a writer, to have my words known by many from many countries; this dream i dreamt came true...so why cant your dream come true too? Rayvon L Browne does not believe in the word cant - Rayvon L Browne

Some' strong decisions stamp you as 'rude'. But in future, they will realize that you were right. But be cautious about the 'Some'.

Life is not about in what we are living , in happy or in pain,in poor or rich,but its all about how we are living ,index of human is only honesty in character and self respect, Best Thing we can do in life its honesty,honesty with Self and with others also But we Can't be honest with others if we are not with our self, Our Soul Leave our body when we die,but our soul meet with us when we on death bed.

Something is reflecting our thoughts back to us in obvious and not so obvious ways.

When a million little things go right, that’s called success. Failure functions as the great leveler. When things don’t go as planned, it’s humbling. It’s important to make mistakes along the way, or we would be impossible to live with.

How could I tell Clarence that finding another dead body was anything but dreadful? On the contrary: it was thrilling; it was exciting; it was exhilarating, it was invigorating; to say nothing of electrifying and above all, satisfying.How could I tell the dear man that murder made me feel so gloriously alive?

Time is the school in which we learn,Time is the fire in which we burn.

Maybe the hardened clay was not as ugly as I had thought. Maybe what I resented was the color my father had painted me. The time had come to sand away some of that dreadful stain.

Bad things happen in dark places.

People Are like Icebergs, You only really see the tip of them.

He looked as surprised as I was about the kiss and more than a little guilty. "I ..." he started. "I'm sorry. That was wrong. You're my dead roommate's little sister, and I'm here to protect you, not to ..." He trailed off, lost for words.When I finally regained control of my tongue, I said, "It's depraved and you should be ashamed of yourself." I dropped the bottle into the snow and walked determinedly toward him. "Do it again.

What I'm primarily saying,' he says, 'is that this is a time for knowledge assimilation, not backstabbing. We learned a lesson, you and I. We personally grew. Gratitude for this growth is an appropriate response. Gratitude, and being careful never to make the same mistake twice.

Eventually sinking into despair, [Heinrich von Kleist] shot himself in 1811 as part of a suicide pact made with a woman suffering from incurable cancer.

Americans share an affinity to establish a distinctive identity and know one’s self in a physiological, psychological, and spiritual sense, and we strive to attain self-actualization, self-realization, and/or bliss.

Nico drank from the chalice, then offered it to Jason. "You asked me about trust, and taking a risk? Well, here you go, son of Jupiter. How much do you trust me?"Frank wasn't sure what Nico was talking about, but Jason didn't hesitate. He took the cup and drank.

Prayer is a leader's best friend. Prayer gives her the best offensive strategy in doing the will of God. Prayer should be part of every moment of her life.