Best 267 of Awe quotes - MyQuotes
Joseph P. Kauffman
According to Zen Buddhists, all things have their existence in The Void. The Void is that which is no-thing, but contains all things within it, or as some Christian mystics state, “God is Nothing; He is Utterly Other; He is the VOID.
You must have traveled all night,” she heard herself say. “I had to come back early.” She felt his lips brush her tumbled hair. “I left some things unfinished. But I had a feeling you might need me. Tell me what’s happened, sweetheart.” Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but to her mortification, the only sound she could make was a sort of miserable croak. Her self-control shattered. She shook her head and choked on more sobs, and the more she tried to stop them, the worse they became. Cam gripped her firmly, deeply, into his embrace. The appalling storm of tears didn’t seem to bother him at all. He took one of Amelia’s hands and flattened it against his heart, until she could feel the strong, steady beat. In a world that was disintegrating around her, he was solid and real. “It’s all right,” she heard him murmur. “I’m here.” Alarmed by her own lack of self-discipline, Amelia made a wobbly attempt to stand on her own, but he only hugged her more closely. “No, don’t pull away. I’ve got you.” He cuddled her shaking form against his chest. Noticing Poppy’s awkward retreat, Cam sent her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, little sister.” “Amelia hardly ever cries,” Poppy said. “She’s fine.” Cam ran his hand along Amelia’s spine in soothing strokes. “She just needs…” As he paused, Poppy said, “A shoulder to lean on.” “Yes.” He drew Amelia to the stairs, and gestured for Poppy to sit beside them. Cradling Amelia on his lap, Cam found a handkerchief in his pocket and wiped her eyes and nose. When it became apparent that no sense could be made from her jumbled words, he hushed her gently and held her against his large, warm body while she sobbed and hid her face. Overwhelmed with relief, she let him rock her as if she were a child. As Amelia hiccupped and quieted in his arms, Cam asked a few questions of Poppy, who told him about Merripen’s condition and Leo’s disappearance, and even about the missing silverware. Finally getting control of herself, Amelia cleared her aching throat. She lifted her head from Cam’s shoulder and blinked. “Better?” he asked, holding the handkerchief up to her nose. Amelia nodded and blew obediently. “I’m sorry,” she said in a muffled voice. “I shouldn’t have turned into a watering pot. I’m finished now.” Cam seemed to look right inside her. His voice was very soft. “You don’t have to be sorry. You don’t have to be finished, either.” She realized that no matter what she did or said, no matter how long she wanted to cry, he would accept it. And he would comfort her.
This is a feeling that you had, Quentin,' she said. 'Once, a very long time ago. A rare one. This is how you felt when you were eight years old, and you opened one of the Fillory books for the first time, and you felt awe and joy and hope and longing all at once. You felt them very strongly, Quentin. You dreamed of Fillory then, with a power and an innocence that not many ever experience. That's where all this began for you. You wanted the world to be better than it was.
One hour later Sophie was in Benedict’s sitting room, perched on the very same sofa on which she had lost her innocence just a few weeks earlier. Lady Bridgerton had questioned the wisdom (and propriety) of Sophie’s going to Benedict’s home by herself, but he had given her such a look that she had quickly backed down, saying only, “Just have her home by seven.” Which gave them one hour together. “I’m sorry,” Sophie blurted out, the instant her bottom touched the sofa. For some reason they hadn’t said anything during the carriage ride home. They’d held hands, and Benedict had brought her fingers to his lips, but they hadn’t said anything. Sophie had been relieved. She hadn’t been ready for words. It had been easy at the jail, with all the commotion and so many people, but now that they were alone . . . She didn’t know what to say. Except, she supposed, “I’m sorry.” “No, I’m sorry,” Benedict replied, sitting beside her and taking her hands in his. “No, I’m—” She suddenly smiled. “This is very silly.” “I love you,” he said. Her lips parted. “I want to marry you,” he said. She stopped breathing. “And I don’t care about your parents or my mother’s bargain with Lady Penwood to make you respectable.” He stared down at her, his dark eyes meltingly in love. “I would have married you no matter what.” Sophie blinked. The tears in her eyes were growing fat and hot, and she had a sneaking suspicion that she was about to make a fool of herself by blubbering all over him. She managed to say his name, then found herself completely lost from there. Benedict squeezed her hands. “We couldn’t have lived in London, I know, but we don’t need to live in London. When I thought about what it was in life I really needed— not what I wanted, but what I needed— the only thing that kept coming up was you.
The key to a wonderful life Is to never stop wandering into wonder. Because to live a predictable life, Only fills a person with strife, And such a person will always be wondering: 'What a limitless life could be lived beyond the lines?' Such is a question a curious spirit would never sit forever and ponder. So always pursue new ventures in your life, And be willing to open doors to different light; This is the only way to keep it magical and always filled with wonder. Days will feel shorter, but your happiness will grow stronger -- Because living a life without curiosity and adventure, Is a stale life where days only feel longer and Longer. THE SPRING FOR WISDOM, 1993
Romeo caught me around the elbow and gently pulled me around. "What's wrong?" "You used to be just like him," I blurted out. Then slammed my lips together, cursing myself for not thinking before I spoke. Romeo's brows drew together. "Braeden?" I nodded. "You liked to have fun. You hit on a different girl every day..." I paused and took a deep breath. "Pretty girls." Something very close to anger lit up his eyes and burned there like the hottest part of a flame. Before I could backpedal, his large hands slid beneath my arms and hooked beneath my shoulders. Romeo lifted me off the ground like it was easy, like it didn't even take effort. My feet dangled in the air as he drew me up so we were eye to eye. "A thousand of those girls"- he made a slight motion with his head toward Braeden- "couldn't even make up one of you." "Romeo," I whispered, caught up in the molten blue flame flickering in his gaze. "You know I was like that once. I've never made a secret of it. But you're it for me now, Rim. There's no one else. There never could be." - Romeo & Rimmel
Joseph P. Kauffman
When we perceive the stars, the stars are the object of our perception—they exist within us. When we perceive the ocean, the ocean is also within us. The idea that things exist outside of our Consciousness is an illusion. Ancient wisdom traditions have known this for centuries, and even modern science has recognized that our sense organs merely receive information and project it within our own minds. Vision does not take place in the eye, but in an area located in the back of the brain. Everything that we perceive to be “out there” is being experienced “in here.
Embracing the Light Collected bits of truth Shimmering sparks Shards of light Merge Healing Restoring Bursting Bright Rising in divine ecstatic flame.
Thank God I have seen an orange sky with purple clouds. How easy it is to forget that we have the privilege of living in God's art gallery.
Sometimes I worry that I'll slide back into the mindless rotisserie of work and projects that guided me in my old house... that I'll grow numb to the way nature can leave me awestruck. I worry that I'll fall asleep at the switch, only to wake up years later and find that I can't remember what I did last week or the month before that, nor do I recognize the old lady staring back at me in the mirror.
Ouch.” The yelp came out by accident as Trent went back over the bumps of her spine. Harper winced. Trent was doing his best to move the needle location around, she could feel that, but it was really starting to hurt. She heard Trent put down his equipment and slide the stool around in front of her. “This is the worst it’s going to be, Harp. You’re being so incredibly brave. I’ve had grown men cry at this point.” He paused for a moment before kissing her gently on the temple. “We have two options. I can stop in a minute and we can pick it up next time, or I can keep going for another twenty minutes and it will be done. The final appointments, then, will be short and sweet. Not to mention a whole lot less painful.” Harper took in a deep breath and blew it out harshly. Determined not to cry, she bit down on her lip hard. It stopped the pending deluge, but the tears still threatened. “Oh darlin’.” Trent kissed her softly. “I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat if I could. I know it hurts where I’m working.” Harper nodded. He understood. “Can you make it fifteen?” Trent kissed the side of her eye, where a single tear was making a break for freedom. “I’ll do it in ten.
I'm filled with awe, as I always am, as I watch her transform from a woman who calls me to kill a spider to a woman immune to fear.
The phrase "singular incredible life" seems to me that it applies more appropriately to Jane Goodall or David Attenborough, people I regard with awe and who stand for great humanism and knowledge.
Others can measure their visions by what we see.
It is the mythic experience, the mythic imagination that opens, reveals depth and mystery, which places the human in the context of the nonhuman, and so, forces retreat, humility, and awe, in the presence of spaces beyond our will.
Alain De Botton
For thousands of years, it had been nature--and its supposed creator--that had had a monopoly on awe. It had been the icecaps, the deserts, the volcanoes and the glaciers that had given us a sense of finitude and limitation and had elicited a feeling in which fear and respect coagulated into a strangely pleasing feeling of humility, a feeling which the philosophers of the eighteenth century had famously termed the sublime. But then had come a transformation to which we were still the heirs.... Over the course of the nineteenth century, the dominant catalyst for that feeling of the sublime had ceased to be nature. We were now deep in the era of the technological sublime, when awe could most powerfully be invoked not by forests or icebergs but by supercomputers, rockets and particle accelerators. We were now almost exclusively amazed by ourselves.
I must admit that I was in total awe of Stewart Granger. He was my idol.
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
Common knowledge never attracts real awe and admiration
He was just a loser with a credit card. Maybe in the past I never realized that. Hell, maybe I'd been the kind of guy who thought money equaled class. Maybe I thought the air of arrogance Zach wore as armor made him superior to others. And then I fell in love with a girl who was the epitome of the opposite of my world. She shattered everything I thought I knew. And though she might be the one wearing glasses, it was me who was finally seeing clearly.
I took her face in my hands and tilted it up so I could stare into her eyes. "Listen to me. My reacting to someone putting their hands on you is not me being dramatic; it's me loving you." "Oh, Romeo," she sighed my name and my cock hardened. I pulled her into my chest and wrapped my arms around her. "Being an asshole is just part of my charm, baby," I said matter-of-fact, unable to keep the smile out of my voice. "This is just me loving you." "You love real good," she mumbled against my chest, pushing a little closer.
Willem De Kooning
Content is a glimpse.
Is it like this everywhere you go?” Gary asked. “Pretty much.” Savannah shrugged calmly. “I don’t really mind. Peter always—” She broke off abruptly and brought the steaming cup to her mouth. Gregori could feel sorrow beating at her, a crushing stone weighing down her heart. His hand slipped down her arm to lace his fingers through hers. At once he poured warmth and comfort into her mind, the sensation of his arms around her body, holding her close. “Peter Sanders always took care of the details surrounding Savannah’s shows. He was very good at shielding her. He was murdered after her last show out in San Francisco.” He provided the information quietly to Gary. “I’m sorry,” Gary said instantly, meaning it. Her distress was evident in her large blue eyes. They shimmered with sorrow. Gregori brought Savannah’s hand to the warmth of his mouth, his breath heating the pulse beating in her wrist. The night is especially beautiful, mon petit amour. Your hero saved the girl, walks among the humans, and converses with a fool. That alone should bring a smile to your face. Do not weep for what we cannot change. We will make certain that this human with us comes to no harm. Are you my hero, then? There were tears in her voice, in her mind, like an iridescent prism. She needed him, his comfort, his support under her terrible weight of guilt and love and loss. Always, for all eternity, he answered instantly, without hesitation, his eyes hot mercury. He tipped her chin up so that she met the brilliance of his silver gaze. Always, mon amour.
There’s no more happiness,” Leo said roughly. “There’s no peace in any damn corner of my life. She took it all with her. For pity’s sake, Amelia … go meddle in someone else’s affairs, and leave me the hell alone.
Oftentimes we call Life bitter names, but only when we ourselves are bitter and dark. And we deem her empty and unprofitable, but only when the soul goes wandering in desolate places, and the heart is drunken with overmindfulness of self. Life is deep and high and distant; and though only your vast vision can reach even her feet, yet she is near; and though only the breath of your breath reaches her heart, the shadow of your shadow crosses her face, and the echo of your faintest cry becomes a spring and an autumn in her breast. And life is veiled and hidden, even as your greater self is hidden and veiled. Yet when Life speaks, all the winds become words; and when she speaks again, the smiles upon your lips and the tears in your eyes turn also into words. When she sings, the deaf hear and are held; and when she comes walking, the sightless behold her and are amazed and follow her in wonder and astonishment.
When God holds the Crayons you can expect a masterpiece.
Joan D. Chittister
Precisely because of the greatness of God, we don't have to be great at all. Just in awe.
This is how it should have been that first night down on the sand," he whispered. "This is our beginning Ivy. I want to make it official. I want there to be no doubt, 'cause I'm gonna do stupid shit all the time." I giggled, and his white teeth flashed. "I'm gonna leave the toilet seat up. I'm gonna be overprotective, probably bossy, and my temper is always gonna run hot." "I don't care," I told him, sliding my hands up to rest on his chest. "Tell me you'll be my girl, and I swear I'll love you with everything I got." "I'm always gonna be stubborn. I'm not gonna take your shit. My makeup will be all over the bathroom, and I still don't have a major. Oh, and I want to keep Prada. You have to like her, too." "I already told Rim to get your adoption paperwork ready for that rat." Then in lower tones, he said, "She's grown on me." I smiled. He totally loved Prada. "So what's my answer?" He tightened his arms around my waist. I pretended to think it over. A girl should never sound too eager-even if she was practically peeing herself with glee. "Blondie," Braeden growled. "I'm already yours, B. I have been for a long time.
Ilsa J. Bick
No one can help but stare at the monster, because horror is a cousin to awe.
Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Nothing keeps me in such awe as perfect beauty; now, there is something consoling and encouraging in ugliness.
Joseph P. Kauffman
The consciousness inhabiting your body is exactly the same as the consciousness inhabiting my body. We are one. The delusion that we are separate beings comes from identifying with the world of form—with our names, our bodies, our roles, our beliefs, our thoughts, and all of the mental constructs that we have created; but even these are more connected to the universe than we realize.
Singing at the Edge of Need by Susan Laughter Meyers (fragment) Three things I turned my back to: light, the past, the trunk of an old tree. One by one each unfastened itself. To sit is to present when the roll is called. I knew that. I wore my hat of straw, fringed like fingers sifting a breeze. My hat collecting a thousand thoughts… …I had no map and few lessons yet to guide me. I was a study of questions. O Grandmother, I was small, sitting in the midst of wildness, a child thrilling at the boss of thunder. A rustle of leaves, moss tipping at me- I was small, I was hunger, I was thirst- wings flitting in a brush pile. O Grandmother, I was small, kneeling in the midst of wonder, quaking and singing at the edge of need.
Alain De Botton
Standing before costly objects of technological beauty, we may be tempted to reject the possibility of awe, for fear that we could grow stupid through admiration. We may feel at risk of becoming overimpressed by architecture and engineering, of being dumbstruck by the Bombardier trains that progress driverlessly between satellites or by the General Electric GE90 engines that hang lightly off the composite wings of a Boeing 777 bound for Seoul. And yet to refuse to be awed at all might in the end be merely another kind of foolishness.
The key to a wonderful life Is to never stop wandering into wonder. Because to live a predictable life, Only fills a person with strife, And such a person will always be wondering: 'What a limitless life could be lived beyond the lines?' Such is a question a curious spirit would never sit forever and ponder. So always pursue new ventures in your life, And be willing to open doors to different light; This is the only way to keep it magical and always filled with wonder. Days will feel shorter, but your happiness will grow stronger -- Because living a life without curiosity and adventure, Is a stale life where days only feel longer and Longer. THE KEY TO A WONDERFUL LIFE by Suzy Kassem
A heavenly awe overshadowed and encompassed, as it still ought, and must, all earthly business whatsoever.
If I was a fan of someone as a teenager, then it's OK for me to feel completely in awe when I meet them.
If you had the chance to visit paradise or heaven, would you? Are you thinking you'll get another chance later? What if you reach the Pearly Gates, and Saint Peter says, 'Hey, you had plenty of opportunities to spend time in heavenly places down there. Sorry.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon
Wonder at God's merciful love is a very practical emotion. Holy wonder will lead you to grateful worship and heartfelt thanksgiving. It will cause within you godly watchfulness; you will be afraid to sin against such a love as this.
You guys are more talented than anyone in the Tumblr office or in Palo Alto or Sunnyvale. We're constantly in awe, constantly in service.
Dan watched in awe. "I didn't know you talk Turkey." "I speak Turkish.
Joseph P. Kauffman
If your consciousness is without form, without quality, and without characteristics of any kind, would that not imply that the consciousness in every other being is also formless? And if they are all without form, how can you distinguish their consciousness from your own? What forms would you use to compare them? Isn’t the observing you exactly the same as the observing them?
There is nothing like taking someone's breath away.
There were only the great diamonds and sapphires and emerald mists and velvet inks of space, with God's voice mingling among the crystal fires.
...fjældene slutter sig tættere og tættere omkring os, det synes som om alt håp er ute, bare litt himmel er synlig ret over vore hodet. Det virker beklemmende på os, vi overvældes og tier. Pludselig ved en skarp dreining av veien åpner sig et svært gap tilhøire og vi ser aldeles nær os istinden Kasbek med sine bræer som hvitgnistrer i solen. Den står os kloss ind på livet, stille og høi, stum. Det rykker en sælsom følelse gjennom os, berget står der opsvoren av de andre berge, det er som et væsen fra en anden verden som står der og ser på os.
When you view your world exclusively through the lens of science, your prescription will never be strong enough.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon
It would be very difficult to draw a line between holy wonder and real worship; for when the soul is overwhelmed with the majesty of God's glory, though it may not express itself in song, or even utter its voice with bowed head in humble prayer, yet it silently adores.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms. When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made of my life something particular, and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened or full of argument. I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
Joseph P. Kauffman
We fail to see the oneness of all things, and because of this, we unknowingly cause a lot of harm to ourselves. We pollute the Earth that we live on, cut down the trees that produce our oxygen, destroy the ecosystems of nature and the animals that maintain them, and we mistreat and harm each other, thinking that these destructive actions will not have a direct effect on us.
Genuine awe connects us with the world in a new way.
The crowd started going crazy. Like even crazier than when Romeo got up from the hit. I was clinging to the railing, wondering if I would like prison, when Ivy sighed. "I swear. You have all the luck." Confused, I glanced around. Romeo was jogging toward us, helmet in his hands. Quickly, I glanced at the big screen and it was showing a wide shot of me clinging onto the rails and him running toward us. When he arrived, he slapped the guard on his back and said something in his ear. The guard looked at me and grinned and then walked away. Romeo stepped up to where I was. At the height I was at one the railing, for once I was taller than him. "You're killing me, Smalls," he said. "I had to interrupt a championship game to keep you from going to the slammer." "I was worried. You didn't get up." "And so you were just going to march out on the field and what?" God, he looked so… so incredible right then. His uniform stretched out over his wide shoulders and narrow waist. The pads strapped to his body made him look even stronger. He had grass stains on his knees, sweat in his hair, and ornery laughter in his sparkling blue eyes. I swear I'd never seen anyone equal parts of to-die-for good looks and boy-next-door troublemaker. "I was going to come out there and kiss it and make it better." He threw back his head and laughed, and the stadium erupted once more. I was aware that every moment between us was being broadcast like some reality TV show, but for once, I didn't care how many people were staring. This was our moment. And I was so damn happy he wasn't hurt. "So you're okay, then?" I asked. "Takes a lot more than a shady illegal attack to keep me down." Behind him, the players were getting back to the game, rushing out onto the field, and the coach was yelling out orders. "I'll just go back to my seat, then," I said. He rushed forward and grabbed me off the railing. The crown cheered when he slid me down his body and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn't a chaste kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made me blush when I watched it on TV. But I kissed him back anyway. I got lost in him. When he pulled back, I said, "By the way, You're totally kicking ass out there." He chuckled and put me back on the railing and kept one hand on my butt as I climbed back over. Back in the stands, I gripped the cold metal and gave him a small wave. He'd been walking backward toward his team, but then he changed direction and sprinted toward me. In one graceful leap, he was up on the wall and leaning over the railing. "Love you," he half-growled and pressed a swift kiss to my lips. "Next touchdown's for you.
I stood there, battered by the raw power and sheer magnificence of a land I'd never known