Best 66 quotes in «magnificent quotes» category

Limitless is your potential. Magnificent is your future.

I will have won Wimbledon this year in 2013, and I will stop with that. It was magnificent. You will certainly see me at tournaments again, but not playing.

I was almost one of The Magnificent Seven. I love horses and guns.

Redemption is a magnificent thing ..the life of God in the soul of man

Magnificent promises are always to be suspected.

No longer will we allow the infrastructure of our magnificent country to crumble and decay. While protecting the environment, we will build gleaming new roads, bridges, railways, waterways, tunnels and highways.

Portland is a pretty magnificent place to live.

Maimed but still magnificent... Europe's mightiest medieval cathedral.

Musically, the bebop route was magnificent, but businesswise, it was the dumbest thing I ever did.

My first Western was called The Magnificent Seven.

natural birth is full of magnificent, life-changing wisdom.

The biggest obstacle to making Christ magnificent is the refusal to make yourself small.

Shaw's works make me admire the magnificent tolerance and broadmindedness of the english.

The belief in poetry is a magnificent fury, or it is nothing.

The vices of some men are magnificent.

The more we can purge ourselves of the diseases we create the more we can become magnificent people

There is nothing one sees oftener than the ridiculous and magnificent, such close neighbors that they touch.

There are plenty of alcoholics who can be magnificent when drunk: it does not make them any less alcoholic.

Zidane is one of the greatest players in history, a truly magnificent player.

The work of our missionaries is a magnificent expression of the Lord's redeeming love.

What a magnificent body, how I should like to see it on the dissecting table.

Your life is magnificent not because someone says it is, but because you choose to see it as such

War, which used to be cruel and magnificent has now become cruel and squalid.

He was not sure. Or at least there was no way for him to be sure. But he could not imagine that Lada would die alone and in secret. Or that she could be dead and he would not somehow know. Surely her death would be marked by something. A comet. A great hole opening in the earth. A tempest, a flood, a fire. A force such as Lada could not depart this world without leaving one last mark.

During these hard times in the world we should always remember to keep our families and friends close.

God does not stereotype. Each of us is made magnificently unique.

God's timing is magnificent.

Holy Child of God, You are a Beautiful Creation of a Loving God. Let not the dreams of the world persuade You that you are unworthy of Love. You are Divine Love itself, and nothing can ever change the Real You: the One Perfect, Infinite, Magnificent, Eternal Love that You shall forever Be!

I coin here the term “magnastic” as an adjective to describe “magnificent” and “fantastic” together.

In the average, want overcomes reason. In the magnificent, reason is the want.

Instead of being regarded as intelligent or knowledgeable, many a woman would rather be regarded as beautiful or good in the kitchen; many a man, as handsome or good in bed.

If you’re not happy, then something is wrong. A person comes into the world as a happy being, yet over time, the happiness fades away and they find themselves in this bubble of anxiety and misery all the time. And it’s a comfortable place to stay, so they end up hanging out in this bubble for years and years before it suddenly dawns on them that life is meant to be happy. And, it is. It’s just that they’re too busy getting caught up in worry and stress to notice that life is magnificent and beautiful. Being alive is good. Being alive should already make you happy.

{McCabe on the influential scientist Luther Burbank} His magnificent work, which added an incalculable sum to the wealth of America and left him a comparatively poor man, is well known. His own simple account of his discoveries runs to 12 volumes and is incomplete. I was one of the few men whom he admitted to his house in Santa Rosa in the few months before he died and I found him advanced even beyond the vague Emersonian theism of his earlier years. He agreed to see me, he said, though he was tired and ill, because of his admiration of my work as a rationalist. He had just raised a storm by a public declaration that he did not believe in a future life, and his biographer Wilbur Hale repeats this.

I think a strong claim can be made that the process of scientific discovery may be regarded as a form of art. This is best seen in the theoretical aspects of Physical Science. The mathematical theorist builds up on certain assumptions and according to well understood logical rules, step by step, a stately edifice, while his imaginative power brings out clearly the hidden relations between its parts. A well constructed theory is in some respects undoubtedly an artistic production. A fine example is the famous Kinetic Theory of Maxwell. ... The theory of relativity by Einstein, quite apart from any question of its validity, cannot but be regarded as a magnificent work of art.

I stumbled upon something and someone so magnificent I was truly blind to it.

I remember on one of my many visits with Thomas A. Edison, I brought up the question of Ingersoll. I asked this great genius what he thought of him, and he replied, 'He was grand.' I told Mr. Edison that I had been invited to deliver a radio address on Ingersoll, and would he be kind enough to write me a short appreciation of him. This he did, and a photostat of that letter is now a part of this house. In it you will read what Mr. Edison wrote. He said: 'I think that Ingersoll had all the attributes of a perfect man, and, in my opinion, no finer personality ever existed....' I mention this as an indication of the tremendous influence Ingersoll had upon the intellectual life of his time. To what extent did Ingersoll influence Edison? It was Thomas A. Edison's freedom from the narrow boundaries of theological dogma, and his thorough emancipation from the degrading and stultifying creed of Christianity, that made it possible for him to wrest from nature her most cherished secrets, and bequeath to the human race the richest of legacies. Mr. Edison told me that when Ingersoll visited his laboratories, he made a record of his voice, but stated that the reproductive devices of that time were not as good as those later developed, and, therefore, his magnificent voice was lost to posterity.

Magnus had animated one of his magnificent Chinese fans, and it flapped ineffectively at him, barely stirring the breeze. It was, if he was completely honest with himself (and he did not want to be), a bit too hot for this new striped blue-and-rose-colored coat, made of taffeta and satin, and the silk faille waistcoat embroidered with a scene of birds and cherubs. The wing collar, and the wig, and the silk breeches, the wonderful new gloves in the most delicate lemon yellow . . . it was all a bit warm. Still. If one could look this fabulous, one had an obligation to. One should wear everything, or one should wear nothing at all.

I will drive the world crazy with love poems for you. So they can know how magnificent you are and how crazy I am.

Once you start questioning your beliefs, that's when it's all over. It is truly doubt that kills our conviction.

Once, in Thessaly, there was a poet called Simonides. He was commissioned to appear at a banquet, given by a man called Scopas, and recite a lyric in praise of his host. Poets have strange vagaries, and in his lyric Simonides incorporated verses in praise of Castor and Pollux, the Heavenly Twins. Scopas was sulky, and said he would pay only half the fee: ‘As for the rest, get it from the Twins.’ A little later, a servant came into the hall. He whispered to Simonides; there were two young men outside, asking for him by name. He rose and left the banqueting hall. He looked around for the two young men, but he could see no one. As he turned back, to go and finish his dinner, he heard a terrible noise, of stone splitting and crumbling. He heard the cries of the dying, as the roof of the hall collapsed. Of all the diners, he was the only one left alive. The bodies were so broken and disfigured that the relatives of the dead could not identify them. But Simonides was a remarkable man. Whatever he saw was imprinted on his mind. He led each of the relatives through the ruins; and pointing to the crushed remains, he said, there is your man. In linking the dead to their names, he worked from the seating plan in his head. It is Cicero who tells us this story. He tells us how, on that day, Simonides invented the art of memory. He remembered the names, the faces, some sour and bloated, some blithe, some bored. He remembered exactly where everyone was sitting, at the moment the roof fell in.

One must never despair upon losing something, whether it’s an individual or an experience of joy or happiness; everything returns even more magnificently. (Letters on Life)

Thunder without sound jolted the air around her. The violence of it was magnificent, immaculate, glorious.

The Light shone shone from her skin,casting about the room in dancing beams that warmed all those that gazed upon her. A magnificent creature,so powerful,so distant,so wonderous and strange and out of reach. It almost seemed she did not belong to this world,she should walk instead through palaces in the heavens,or labyrinths of deep seas. Forests where trees stretched out of sight,with canopies that spread for miles;or mountains that glittered white and violet.

The magnificence of my skeleton is hidden by the weight of my flesh.

What do you think the world is if not just an endless parade of madness? To make war is madness. To seek power is madness." She laughed louder, throwing her arms wide. "And madness is glorious!

While many find the new clothes of the emperor magnificent, some dare to say out loud, he is simply naked. If the clear sighted are constrained by the credulous and when the “followers” are browbeating the "knowers", the cat is among the pigeons and the age of obscuration is under way. Obviously "something wicked this way comes…" ("His master's voice" )

What if deep down inside you...you knew you were more amazing and magnificent than you thought you were?

You are not white, but a rainbow of colors. You are not black, but golden. You are not just a nationality, but a citizen of the world. You are not just for the right or left, but for what is right over the wrong. You are not just rich or poor, but always wealthy in the mind and heart. You are not perfect, but flawed. You are flawed, but you are just. You may just be conscious human, but you are also a magnificent reflection of God.

You are magnificent - a jewel reflecting inwardly and outwardly, the light of the universe. Observe how you respond to beauty everywhere - you bear witness to everything. Be aware that you, yourself, are an inextricable part of the infinite creative intelligence, and be blessed.

Your attitude of serving the Lord can transform even the most menial of tasks into a magnificent sacrifice of love.