Best 21 quotes in «ethereal quotes» category

We must not be too prodigal with our angels; they are the last divinities we harbor, and they might fly away.

Generally, I play the kind of ethereal, fragile-on-the-outside-but-hard-and-damaged-on-the-inside type.

When love has left us in the lurch and nothing ever strikes a chord anymore, we may come to realize a vacuum of the lost vibrations of happiness and an absence of the ethereal and exalting feel of harmony that we only become aware of, after time passes by and everything has expired. (“Amour en friche”)

Also, chubby people can never truly pull off ethereal the same way skinny people can never be jolly.

Angels boast ethereal vigor, and are formed from seeds of heavenly birth.

When Beauty evokes an ethereal, colourful art,as it paints a material or a body,to render an Earthly wish,as its mesmerizing shapes give a fanciful glow for the smile lost Poetic hearts,ah! yet wonder,how we wander high!

For my happy relationships...they are truly formulated in a deeply intimate, trust-BUILT, character-tested, place in my conscience. I consider my friends in the Spirit and TRUTH as divinely chosen ones, plus the way I communicate this reality is by the way I love them inaction. They share in the experience of my authentic happiness, by ethereal invitation, and not by mere coincidence.

I will only observe, that that ethereal sense - sight, and touch, which is at the other extremity of the scale, have from time acquired a very remarkable additional power.

Darkness can inspire light, and light can inspire darkness, its just a difference of distant of these two contrasting forces.

Saffy ran her fingertips lightly down the sides of the silk skirt. The color really was exquisite. A lustrous almost-pink, like the underside of the wild mushrooms that grew by the mill, the sort of color a careless glance might mistake for cream, but which rewarded close attention.

His studies were always second to Beatrice. He would've said everything was second to Beatrice but the flowery metaphors and literary devices can only stretch so far and for so many characters.

It is only for me, that luminosity she exudes, of ethereal beauty and haunting eminence.

It's like I am inside this ethereal sphere wherein exists no logic, no reasoning, no typicality, no explanations, no realism, no comparisons, nothing ordinary, and no normalcy. And then if you are to understand me, you have to step into my realm and leave all of those things behind. I'm not typical. I'm not ordinary. And I'm not normal. And I never will be ‎. So I don't see the point of waking up in the morning and wishing to be so.

POLISH your MIND to reflect the shimmering BEAUTY of your WORDS and ACTIONS.

Screaming love even when I’m ether.

From personal experience, I know for sure that the number one thing that saddens the dead more than our grief — is not being conscious of their existence around us. They do want you to talk to them as if they were still in a physical body. They do want you to play their favorite music, keep their pictures out, and continue living as if they never went away. However, time and "corruption" have blurred the lines between the living and the dead, between man and Nature, and between the physical and the etheric. There was a time when man could communicate with animals, plants, the ether, and the dead. To do so requires one to access higher levels of consciousness, and this knowledge has been hidden from us. Why? Because then the plants would tell us how to cure ourselves. The animals would show us their feelings, and the dead would tell us that good acts do matter. In all, we would come to know that we are all one. And most importantly, we would be alerted of threats and opportunities, good and evil, truth vs. fiction. We would have eyes working for humanity from every angle, and this threatens "the corrupt". Secret societies exist to hide these truths, and to make sure lies are preserved from generation to generation.

It was difficult to say which were the more dismal, these deserted streets that wandered away to right and left, or the great main thoroughfare with its narcotic and shadowy life. For the latter appeared vast, interminable, grey, and those who travelled by it were scarcely real, the bodies of the living, but rather the uncertain and misty shapes that come sand go across the desert in an Eastern tale, when men look up from the sand and see a caravan pass them, all in silence, without a cry or a greeting. So they passed and repassed each other on those pavements, appearing and vanishing, each intent on his own secret, and wrapped in obscurity.

MUSIC OF THE UNIVERSE Without the orchestra of the universe, There would be no ether. And without its instrumentation By the ether, There would be no waves. And without any waves, There would be no sound. And without sound, There would be no music. And without music, There would be no life. And without a life force, There would be no matter. But it does not matter - Because what is matter, If there is no light?

The moon is jealous of you tonight. Your alluring charm and intoxicating beauty have immured me as a prisoner; I didn't even glance once at the moon tonight!

The peace and beauty of it all, before I can fly, I learn how to crawl. Mentally rich so space jam is where I take my lessons to ball. Failures of life? Haa, angels surround me as if I'm never destined to fall, It's destined for all, tap into conscious mind is what makes me so raw.

The subtle thread of the spirit can expand and contract within the body. When it expands, it passes through the brain, heart and body to experience life, and when the same subtle thread of the spirit, is taken inward, it contract itself into the soul, to experience the bliss from within.