Best 23562 quotes in «heart quotes» category

Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.

How can I follow my heart when it's waiting around for the rest of me to make the decision?

How can I tell the signals and the signs By which one heart another heart divines? How can I tell the many thousand ways By which it keeps the secret it betrays?

How agreeable to watch, from the other side of the high stile, this mighty creature, this fat bull of Bashan, snorting, champing, pawing the earth, lashing the tail, breathing defiance at heaven and at me ... his heart hot with hate, unable to climb a stile.

How can one know who his spiritual teacher is?...His heart looks at the spiritual Masters and makes the choice. When the heart sees a spiritual Master, if it is overwhelmed with joy, then there is every probability that that spiritual Master is the right one for the seeker.

How can so much beauty hide such a bruised and steely heart, and why must I love him, why must I lean in my weariness upon his irresistible yet indomitable strength? Is he not the wizend funeral spirit of a dead man in a child's clothes?

How are you to meet the swarm of foolish attachments, triflings, and undesirable inclinations which beset you? By turning sharply away, and thoroughly renouncing such vanities, flying to the Saviour's Cross, and clasping His Crown of thorns to your heart, so that these little foxes may not spoil your vines. Beware of entering into any manner of treaty with the Enemy; do not delude yourself by listening to him while intending to reject him.

How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.

How can I give you nothing? Do you seriously expect me to buy nothing, wrap up nothing, stick a gift tag on nothing, send a card saying I really hope you like your nothing and lie awake worrying that the nothing I got you was the right color nothing you always anted? Have a heart!

How can such episodes of such savage cruelty happen? The heart of man is an abyss out of which sometimes emerge plots of unspeakable ferocity capable of overturning in an instant the tranquil and productive life of a people.

Howard's enchanting Hospice obeys its own magical inner logic with excellent prose and a sadness that will split open hearts. You have in your hands a story that is inquisitive, gripping, and triumphant.

How beautiful to look at When my prayer Lights a candle of hope In my heart.

How can there be pride in a contrite heart? Humility is the earliest fruit of religion.

Howard University holds something called "Heart's Day," an all day ceremony in which a writer is honored. I was the recipient of this honor. It's a wonderful ceremony that Eleanor Traylor chair of English at Howard University organizes for writers. Writers from around the country came to pay tribute to my work. It was very flattering.

How beautiful the water is! To me 'tis wondrous fair-- No spot can ever lonely be If water sparkle there; It hath a thousand tongues of mirth, Of grandeur, or delight, And every heart is gladder made When water greets the sight.

How beautiful to find a heart that loves you, without asking you for anything, but to be okay.

How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow.

How can you be in hell while you are in my heart?

How can we thankful? We can only love the Heart of Jesus more generously and by our union with Him, become the most humble.

How can you not understand?" He pointed at her books. "You read novels. Obviously, I'm here to rescue you. Don't I look like Sir Galahad?" He raised his arms dramatically. "My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure---

"How can you see Christ in people?" And we only say: It is an act of faith, constantly repeated. It is an act of love, resulting from an act of faith. It is an act of hope, that we can awaken these same acts in their hearts, too, with the help of God.

How could I share the way my heart was breaking when my confessor didn’t believe

How could you forget someone you loved even if I did rip his heart to shreds?

How could you feel worthless when God has honoured you by creating you and choosing you to be with Him, in this life and the next? You are worthy. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of respect. You haven't failed. You're beautiful. Only the beautiful can see beauty. Never doubt your beauty. Never doubt your worth. It's not about how much you make, your grades, what people say or think. It's about you and God. It's about your heart. The blinding beauty of your heart.

How dangerous it is for our salvation, how unworthy of God and of ourselves, how pernicious even for the peace of our hearts, to want always to stay where we are! Our whole life was only given us to advance us by great strides toward our heavenly country.

How deeply seated in the human heart is the liking for gardens and gardening.

How desperately difficult it is to be honest with oneself. It is much easier to be honest with other people.What is true is invisible to the eye. It is only with the heart that one can see clearly.

How do I pray? I study a rose, I count the stars, I marvel at the beauty of creation and how perfectly ordered it is, at man, the most beautiful work of the Creator, his brain thirsting for knowledge, his heart for love, and his senses, all his senses alert or gratified.

How do we accomplish this matter of gathering life together in God? We must begin primarily by refocusing our attention keeping our minds and hearts directed toward God. The essence of the centered life is attention to God in all we think, say and do. It is the growing realization of His presence in our most down-to-earth living.

How delicious to corrupt, to stifle all semblances of virtue and religion in that young heart!

[H]ow do I pity those who (assuming the name of friends) surround themselves with maxims importing the wisdom of doubt and suspicion, 'til they impose on themselves that very hard task of laboring through life without ever knowing a human creature to whom they can make the proper use of language and freely speak the dictates of their hearts!

How do they manage to go on living?.....By loving life. And-in spite of everything-by loving God. By having enough faith to start over again and again; enough faith to risk having our hearts break all over again. That's the true meaning of faith. It's the deepest kind of heroism.

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection recalls them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew.

How does one kill fear, I wonder? How do you shoot a specter through the heart, slash off its spectral head, take it by its spectral throat?

How does your heart respond to the thought that the Universe is alive and compassionate and that with it and with other souls of great power and Light you learn through the process of co-creating the reality that you experience?

How do we take our anger and transform it into sacred rage? How do we create a language that opens the heart instead of closing it? To bear witness is not a passive act. It's an act of consequence that leads to consciousness. It matters. I am curious. I want to know why. I was raised with a scripture that says, "The glory of God is intelligence." And to me our greatest intelligence is following our instincts, trusting our intuition.

How do women still go out with guys, when you consider the fact that there is no greater threat to women than men? We're the number one threat to women. Globally and historically, we're the number one cause of injury and mayhem to women... You know what our number one threat is? Heart disease.

How dear to the mind of the sage are the thoughts that are bred in loneliness; for there is as it were music at his heart, and he talketh within him as with friends.

How delicious is the winning Of a kiss at Love's beginning, When two mutual hearts are sighing For the knot there's no untying!

How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view.

How deeply rooted must unbelief be in our hearts when we are surprised to find our prayers answered.

How do we awaken to this true Self? By going within and putting our attention on the silent presence in our heart - the silent witness that is detached from sensory experience and at the same time enjoys that experience in complete freedom.

How do you forget something? You just walk away from it, those who are still alive. There are so few clearings in our hearts and minds, so few places where something can't grow on top of whatever happened to us before, and this is love too.

How do you go about finding anything? By keeping your mind and heart on it. Interest there must be and steady remembrance. To remember what needs to be remembered is the secret of success. You come to it through earnestness

How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!

However, community is first of all a quality of the heart. It grows from the spiritual knowledge that we are alive not for ourselves but for one another. Community is the fruit of our capacity to make the interests of others more important than our own. The question, therefore, is not 'How can we make community?' but, 'How can we develop and nurture giving hearts?'

How do you spell peace? P-R-A-Y-E-R! Anything you believe you need is available to you through prayer. We are not talking here about a magic formula of proper and distinct words. Oh no! We are talking about opening your heart and your mouth, saying what's on your mind, knowing that once you do, the answer will be revealed.

How dreadful it is, to emerge from the oblivion of slumber, and to receive as a good morrow the mute wailing of one's own hapless heart - to return from the land of deceptive dreams to the heavy knowledge of unchanged disaster!

However awful the storm of my disappointment, it's a response that belongs to me. It's my heart, after all. My territory, my kingdom. And since I'm the only one with the authority to surrender it, I can also take it back.

However corrupt our hearts, and however wicked our past lives, there is hope for us in the Gospel.