Best 260 quotes in «reincarnation quotes» category

Sharing feelings, conveying appreciation and whispering desires are all crucial components of a satisfying encounter with your beloved.

She communicated in what ways she could – sweet whines of happiness and wet kisses. She knew him. She knew him. He knelt in the grass, still pouring his attention onto her. She received every ounce of it in a way only a dog can, its unconditional love contained in every breath and every heartbeat. And Luke was struck precisely at that moment at his capacity to feel so moved by the simple act of affection for this sweet animal. He swallowed hard. It wasn’t easy to let himself feel it, the gentle tug from a place deeply buried. And in the grass on his knees, he found himself releasing the sadness long held hostage in that deep place. Tears spilled over, finally uncontained. The dog stretched its snout through the rails and found his wet cheeks with its tongue. He did not retreat, but let her clean the tears from his face.

She brought her hand to his chest. His chiseled muscles responded to her touch, and a moan escaped her as he clutched her tighter. Calisto’s fingers slid through her hair, and her lips parted, her tongue tasting him, tangling with his until her knees buckled. Dear God, this man could kiss.

She was a pious Buddhist and every day in her prayers asked Buddha not ro reincarnate her as a woman. "Let me become a cat or dog, but not a woman," was her constant murmur as she shuffled around the house, oozing apology with every step.

Since you came to birth in this world at this time, in this place, and with this particular destiny, it was this indeed that you wanted and required for your own ultimate illumination. That was a great big wonderful thing that you thereupon brought to pass: not the "you" of course, that you now suppose yourself to be, but the "you" that was already there before you were born. You are not now to lose your nerve! Go on through with it and play your own game all the way!

Six days and six nights I was writing in a paranoid impulse. Full of fear, that the commenced metamorphosis – the reincarnation of the spirit of a dead – might have been disrupted.

Souls up here will decide whether they want to incarnate into a human earthly life or whether they want to experience an existence on another galaxy or star system somewhere else.

SONG OF THE STAR I am nothing but oxygen and hydrogen, A luminous sphere of plasma Held together by helium and gravity, And like a balloon I float on earth, Waiting to be released back into the sky, Waiting to go back in the reverse Direction from which I came, Traveling through a warm tunnel of light, And out into a cold, dark abyss Where I will explode into a thousand pieces. I shall leave behind my body, Just like air abandons the skin of a shattered balloon, And the magnetic dust that carries my Heart and spirit will lift us back To congregate and shine With the stars. Home again, In the fluorescent Kingdom of the constellations, I will once again be called by My soul’s true name. And my heart, It will flicker again, With every memory from its many Lifetimes, And with every wish Made by a child. SONG OF THE STAR by Suzy Kassem Copyright 1993

Sometimes the Light searched and listened for something unknown, but mostly it was warm and happy.

Soul doesn’t travel through time, only ideas do, for glorious ideas seek out various vessels through time and inspire the whole world by shaping their psyche, over and over.

The dead are omniabsent.

The dead are immune from our prison of Time. The distance between the living and dead may be vast, but the space of Time the dead experience when they are reunited with their loved ones is only paper-thin.

Spirit guides may be souls who you had shared past lives with and with whom you had had good experiences. They may also be angels, archangels, ascended masters or other senior beings whose role through all eternity is to be a spirit guide.

Tell me something, Mari—do you believe in reincarnation?” Mari shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she says. “So you don’t think there’s a life to come?” “I haven’t thought much about it. But it seems to me there’s no reason to believe in a life after this one.” “So once you’re dead there’s just nothing?” “Basically.” “Well, I think there has to be something like reincarnation. Or maybe I should say I’m scared to think there isn’t. I can’t understand nothingness. I can’t understand it and I can’t imagine it.” “Nothingness means there’s absolutely nothing, so maybe there’s no need to understand it or imagine it.” “Yeah, but what if nothingness is not like that? What if it’s the kind of thing that demands that you understand it or imagine it? I mean, you don’t know what it’s like to die, Mari. Maybe a person really has to die to understand what it’s like.” “Well, yeah…,” says Mari. “I get so scared when I start thinking about this stuff,” Korogi says. “I can hardly breathe, and my whole body wants to shrink into a corner. It’s so much easier to just believe in reincarnation. You might be reborn as something awful, but at least you can imagine what you’d look like—a horse, say, or a snail. And even if it was something bad, you might be luckier next time.

That's the life, she said to me, as we watched a puppy chase its own tail. That's what I want to be next. I had laughed. you would wind up as a cat, I told her. They don't need anyone else. I need you, she replied. Well, I said. Maybe I'll come back as catnip.

The death of the human body is not only inevitable, but necessary, too. Just as you’d never wish to be forced as an adult to wear clothes you haven’t fit into since you were five, the soul needs to move on and away from the body. It outgrows it.

The fervor and single-mindedness of this deification probably have no precedent in history. It's not like Duvalier or Assad passing the torch to the son and heir. It surpasses anything I have read about the Roman or Babylonian or even Pharaonic excesses. An estimated $2.68 billion was spent on ceremonies and monuments in the aftermath of Kim Il Sung's death. The concept is not that his son is his successor, but that his son is his reincarnation. North Korea has an equivalent of Mount Fuji—a mountain sacred to all Koreans. It's called Mount Paekdu, a beautiful peak with a deep blue lake, on the Chinese border. Here, according to the new mythology, Kim Jong Il was born on February 16, 1942. His birth was attended by a double rainbow and by songs of praise (in human voice) uttered by the local birds. In fact, in February 1942 his father and mother were hiding under Stalin's protection in the dank Russian city of Khabarovsk, but as with all miraculous births it's considered best not to allow the facts to get in the way of a good story.

The Earth is a playground, but your spirit is no child. You are a seasoned veteran of soul caught up in the entrapments of human desire, and as the body’s resident higher self, it’s up to you to help that body behave responsibly whenever possible.

The freed self searches for the bright star that unlocks the doors of peace and rebirth.

The more I live, the more I know reincarnation is true.

The love of every single one of my lives.

The monsignor called after him, “If I am to blame, then why have I not met the same fate as Brother Mentigo and Brother De Cardina before him? Why am I still alive?” Calisto glared over his shoulder at the monsignor and growled. “Because there are worse punishments than death. Live with your guilt, old man. May it rot in your heart and kill you slowly for many years to come.

The future is our past, but the knowledge has yet to be written.

The kiss. Oh, the kiss. What a perfect, unnerving, luscious kiss. He made me feel unhinged . . . like he could take me apart and put me back together again and again.

The living and the dead, The awake and the sleeping, The young and the old are all one and the same. When the ones change, they become the others. When those shift again, they become these again. God is day and night. God is winter and summer. God is war and peace. God is fertility and famine. He transforms into many things. Day and night are one. Goodness and badness are one. The beginning and the end of a circle are one.

The meanest people are the weakest people, for they do not even have the strength to believe in goodness. Do not let this be your life’s curse.

The ocean pulsed outside our window. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks below usually calmed me down, but the fear and chaos that were tangled in my mind made that an impossibility.

The mysteries of universe are revealed to those who seek to know the truth of their own existence first.

Theosophists for instance will preach an obviously attractive idea like re-incarnation; but if we wait for its logical results, they are spiritual superciliousness and the cruelty of caste. For if a man is a beggar by his own pre-natal sins, people will tend to despise the beggar. But Christianity preaches an obviously unattractive idea, such as original sin; but when we wait for its results, they are pathos and brotherhood, and a thunder of laughter and pity; for only with original sin we can at once pity the beggar and distrust the king.

There are various levels above and below the human through which the individual soul may pass in the course of its reincarnations—the angelic, the titanic, the animal, the purgatories, and the realm of the frustrated ghosts.

The place you’re going is unlike anything you’ve ever seen or experienced here in Heaven. It’s a contraption of the most immense size, but it comes with walls and a ceiling that will, without any shred of variation or doubt, always come crashing down.

There is no such thing as reincarnation, but only similar incarnation.

The strangers we see in our dreams are not so strange after all, as they have existed in our past lives and only momentarily forgotten. -Marcil d'Hirson Garron

There must have been a time, in the beginning, when we could have said – no. But somehow we missed it. Oh well, we'll know better next time.

The soul attracted leaned to the Abyss: It longed for the adventure of Ignorance

There was a bright flash of brilliant white light, like the midday summer sun reflecting off of a freshly cleaned mirror. And then it was gone.

The soul permeates every cell, every atom and the space within and between the atoms, between the electrons and the other components. All through from your toenails to the tips of your hair.

The strangers we see in our dreams are not so strange after all, as they have existed in our past lives and only momentarily forgotten.

The sutras liken reincarnation to the relationship between teachers and students. A singing teacher teaches students how to sing. His students learn techniques and benefit from direct experiential advice from their teacher. But the teacher doesn't remove a song from his throat and insert it into a student's mouth. Similarly, reincarnation is a continuity of everything we have learnt, like lighting one candle from another, or a face and its reflection in a mirror.

They have to know, for we know , that reincarnation is real.

The wise grieve neither for the living nor for the dead. There was never a time when you and I and all the kings gathered here have not existed and nor will there be a time when we will cease to exist.

The work of soul has nothing at all to do with your physical appearance, weight, height, muscle size, breast size, penis size, or the amount of hair on your head. Nothing physical endures, because nothing physical needs to endure. Nothing physical matters, because matter doesn’t matter. And nothing physical is worth perfecting, because that which is truly perfect was always yours from the beginning.

The "you only live once" theory: Many people say that they do not believe in reincarnation; they believe when you die, you're dead. What about fish, clams, horses, bears, flies? People that say you only live once are saying some souls get to live just one life as a worm, and that is it for all of eternity. Other people believe you are judged by a god after you die. Is the worm judged?

We are all one. Everything is meaningless, and yet at the same time meaningful. Everything matters and doesn’t matter just as much," Wisdom said and looked beyond time.(Nakoma, by Gala.J)

They say you fly when you die. Basically, when you die, your spirit leaves your body. Actually, at first you can see all your life, like, reflected in a magic mirror. Then you start floating like a ghost. You can see anything happening around you, you can hear everything, but you can’t communicate with the world of the living. Then you see these lights, all these different lights, of all different colors. These lights are the doors that pull you into other planes of existence, but most people actually like this world so much that they don’t want to be taken away… So the whole thing turns into a bad trip and the only way out is to get reincarnated. It’s funny you know, DMT only lasts for six minutes but it really seems like eternity. It’s the same chemical that your brain receives when you die. It’s a little bit like, dying would be the ultimate trip.

This life is but a brief tenure, one of many perspectives a spirit must experience in the quest for eternity.

To je poput reinkarnacije - ljudi koji vjeruju u prošle živote uvijek misle da su bili vojvode ili kraljice ili nešto slično, zanemarujući činjenicu da je većina ljudi u to doba provodila cijeli život u govnima do koljena sve dok ne bi umrli u krezuboj starosti od trideset godina.

Unending Love I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times... In life after life, in age after age, forever. My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs, That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms, In life after life, in age after age, forever. Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain, It's ancient tale of being apart or together. As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge, Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time. You become an image of what is remembered forever. You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount. At the heart of time, love of one for another. We have played along side millions of lovers, Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting, the distressful tears of farewell, Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever. Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you The love of all man's days both past and forever: Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life. The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours - And the songs of every poet past and forever.

Virtually no soul ever achieves all of its objectives in one lifetime.

They were different colors: the right one blue, the left green. And her face in the light of the candle on the table startled me at first, just as it had in the icy night air. After seeing it on the street, I was afraid I had only imagined it: a still, luminous face with a silvery sheen. Finely hewn, with a long, straight nose and a wide mouth, it was nearly identical to another face, which I had photographed years before. Not on a person, bu on the fragment of a frieze I found in some ruins near Verona, The frieze, which depicted a band of musicians, had once been shadowed beneath a cornice high on the temple of Mercury, god of magic. Belonging to one of the musicians, it was a riveting face - like a puzzle that could not be solved - which I had never found, or expected to find, on a living woman.