Best 3787 quotes in «water quotes» category

We need four things to survive life: bread, water, oxygen, and dreams!

We often give painkillers the credit that ought to be given to the passage of time, the belief that they would kill the pain, or the water that accompanied them.

We sat bathed in luscious darkness, Casco Bay's thousand islands spread out before us like a diamond quilt. 'I don't get enough of this,' she said.

We trust ourselves, far more than our ancestors did… The root of our predicament lies in the simple fact that, though we remain a flawed and unstable species, plagued now as in the past by a thousand weaknesses, we have insisted on both unlimited freedom and unlimited power. It would now seem clear that, if we want to stop the devastation of the earth, the growing threats to our food, water, air, and fellow creatures, we must find some way to limit both.

We were advised to drink plenty of fluids during our very high altitude summit work days to offset altitude sickness.

We wish to be watered; we must daily mediate on the word of God.

What a boon to live on the water! Such delicious shades and hues! This is a template worthy of the greatest painters. The textures of sand and stone could inspire incomparable sculptures, and the sounds - the steady lapping of the waves, the sweet chirping of the birds, make this a sanctuary.

What an incomparable creature is the sea! ("Absolute Evil")

What begins at the water shall end there, and what ends there shall once more begin. Words are a gift to the dead and a warning to the living.

What is true pleasure? It depends primarily on the given situation. For example, drinking fresh water is true pleasure for someone in the desert.

What is more dramatic, even romantic, than the tumbled towers of lower Manhattan, rising suddenly to the clouds like a magic castle girdled by water? Its very touch of jumbled jaggedness, its towering-sided canyons, are its magnificence.

What melody will our rivers remember if songbirds forget how to sing?

When a fat person goes in the water naked, would it still be called skinny-dipping?

When a fire rises, don't be quick to worry. Find the purpose of the fire, if it's negative, water it down, if positive, feed the flames.

What you have to understand about the mermaid legend is that it's universal. No matter where you go, the mermaids got there first. Even inland, if there's a big enough lake, I guarantee you there's a local community with a story about women in the water with beautiful voices who lure men to their deaths. Where there's water, we find mermaids. Maybe it's time we started asking ourselves exactly why that is.

When a man does not dwell in self, then things will of themselves reveal their forms to him. His movement is like that of water, his stillness like that of a mirror, his responses like those of an echo.

When a stone is dropped into a pond, the water continues quivering even after the stone has sunk to the bottom.

When the thing that your heart strongly loves to do is the thing world hungers and thirsts to see done, then that's what you were called to do. You must never leave it undone!

Whenever they are given the choice, some people choose a bath over a shower; they, too, would like to do their bit to waste water.

When water fountains start charging to drink, then you know we have a problem.

When life places stones in your path, be the water. A persistent drop of water will wear away even the hardest stone.

When water is being filled in a pot, the sound we hear is a function of the pot, not of the water. Same water makes different sounds in different pots. Each of us, described in Sanskrit as Ghata, meaning pot, responds in a unique way to the stimuli from the surrounding environment. Do not be surprised when the response of another appears entirely different from yours. The pot has created the illusion of a wall, of mine and other. Once you become aware of that illusion, otherness melts and the universe becomes a unified verse again, with apparently diverse responses becoming part of the same symphony.

When we’d all settled down from that first night, Julie found a bag on the porch, which we thought must have been left by the same three girls who had brought me to them. Just like the clues on my skin, I’d only been left with two worldly possessions. The first was a wad of cash that I immediately handed to Ben and Julie as compensation for giving me a home. Most of it went to pay for Akinli’s medical bills, which was fine with me. I didn’t know if there was a word bigger than soul mates, something that meant the feeling of being so connected that it was hard to tell where one person ended and the other began. If there was, that word belonged to Akinli and me. The second thing was a bottle of water. It was so peculiar, this water, a blue that was both dark and brilliant, too thick to see through but still carrying light. No matter the season, it was always cold, and there were tiny shells in it that never settled. Sometimes I slept with it, even though it was cold enough to wake me up if I rolled on it the wrong way. It was the only clue I had to tell me who I had been before the night I was left on the porch, and I loved it second only to Akinli. Somehow, I knew that this love was important, as if treasuring the water meant I treasured myself. And I did. I loved my recovering body, I loved my blue-eyed soul mate, I loved my adopted family. I held the water to my chest, and I loved.

When we step onto the bridge, Nathan turns and spreads his arms out wide. ‘Welcome to Pont des Arts, a.k.a. The Lock Bridge.

When you control their water, you control the people.

When you are walking on water it is fear, not sharks, that sinks you.

When you take care of the well you take care of the water.

Whoever thirst for the living Water shall be quench.

Where mermaids live looks a bit like your pool.' said Bernard. 'Except they build houses out of whale bones and the wreckage of sunken ships. They play chess with seahorses. They wear capes of fish scales and sleep on beds made from seaweed.' As we listened, I thought I heard a slight splashing from the far end of the pool. 'At night,' Bernard continued, 'they turn on an electric eel for a night-light, and they light a fire, and the smoke goes up a chimney made from coral.' 'Wait a minute,' interupted Zoe, clearly immersed in Bernard's description. 'If they live underwater, how could they have a fire?' 'You should ask them,' said Bernard. Zoe and I open our eyes. Now, look, I know the light was just playing tricks on us. And I know we'd all probably inhaled too much sequin glue. But for the briefest moment, the blue of Zoe's pool gave way to deeper, darker aqua-colored water. The few plants and rocks were replaced with a lagoon and a waterfall where several mermaids lounged half in the water, half in the sun. They splashed and dove, their laughter making the same sound as the water.

Where there is no water there is no blood

Who will you be, my Little Ones? Will you dance for the fires of your youth and run at midnight to water’s edge, diving into summer’s heat? Will you ride a wild mare to any thought or dream or love of your making? Will you seek the artistry of your own infatuations and explore . . .

Who is the spring of living water? The Sovereign Lord.

Why does everyone see me as a sink when I am an ocean?

Why do we have to do this in the middle of the night?” Taylor asked. “Because we don’t want the whole town knowing why we’re going and where we’re going.” “How can I tell anyone if I don’t even know myself?” Taylor stuck out her lower lip. “Water. We’re going to look for water,” Sam said. He could almost hear the wheels in Taylor’s head spinning. Then, “OMG, we’re out of water?” She bit her lip, took a couple of dramatic breaths, and wailed, “Do you mean we’re all going to die?” “That would be a pretty good example of why we’re keeping this secret,” Sam said dryly. “I just need to go—” “Uh-uh!” Sam said. “No you don’t, Taylor. You don’t bounce anywhere or talk to anyone without me agreeing. Are we clear?” “You know, Sam, you’re nice. And so very, very hot,” Taylor said. “But you’re not really much fun.” “Let’s get out of here while we can,” Dekka said. “I brought a gun, by the way.” “Are we going to be in danger?” Taylor cried. “The gun’s in case you get on my nerves, Taylor,” Dekka warned. “Oh, so funny,” Taylor said.

With ceremony, with forms of politeness and reassurance, they borrowed the waters of the River and its little confluents to drink and be clean and irrigate with, using water mindfully, carefully. They lived in a land that answers greed with drought and death. A difficult land: aloof yet sensitive.

Wishing is like water caught in a dam. You let a little trickle of it escape and you don't think it's much, but in no time the trickle has worn a channel and the edges fall in and the water's doubled and then you get a flood carrying everything away.

With the smell so close, the ocean came into view only a few moments later, sometimes peeking between old brick buildings with bright blue eyes, other times peering for a lingering moment like long lost relatives seeing one another for the first time.

You Are a Dark Body of water with a bed of rock barely visible from your surface. You are the only dark body of water in a desert littered with bleeding cactus. At your collarbones you carry a gulch, held up by a thread of hair. You travel days drinking only from yourself, because you are this land’s only dark body of water. At the crease of horizon you find a woman in bed, her chest wet with saliva, you kick her off the bed, and take her place among its sheets. A man lies down in bed next to you. He swallows your dark body of water and gives you a woman’s body, a body you’ve never known. As a woman he gives you sores, and through the sores you breathe, and despite the sores you give birth to a child stillborn for lack of water. You kick the child off the bed, but it returns in the arms of the woman whose bed you stole. You cry to be made again into a dark body of water. The man kicks you off the bed, covers you with dirt, and turns you desert. You cry for a bed he will never let you sleep in again. You cry for your body’s bed of rock turned desert for lack of water.

You are made of the same minerals as the rocks--the same water as the sea. You grow in the sun. You breathe air cleansed by trees. When are you going to get the message that you're a part of Nature?

You can not hide on an island and expect that water will not find you.

You are the earth, my dear grandson, and just like it takes everything without complaining, so have you shown us today that you will take everything in kind, and there's no greater title than this.

You can bail water 24/7, and no matter how good you are at not sinking, you still have a hole in your boat.

You are so beautiful, like water droplet. When I'm looking on water, inside the glass, I see nothing unusual, but when I look on water droplet, I see, how beautiful She is.

You didn’t just accidentally win my favor,” I dispute, slowly shaking my forehead against his. “You earned it. Now, if I can just save your life twenty or thirty more times…We might actually be able to call it even.

You can’t imagine how much I regret what happened. For some reason, because of the type of relationship we had, I thought it was an acceptable training exercise; albeit a little extreme. But I’m not going to ask your forgiveness, I don’t want it. I mean to always remember my mistake, so I will never make it again.” (Micah to Kaitlyn)

You really didn't appreciate how thick, how powerful water was until you had to fight it.

You have to dig a well before you can draw water from it.

You must stay focused, concentrating on the work at hand. Consistency makes the rain drops to create holes in the rock.

Young people today are deeply passionate and crave authentic life based on truth. They're hungry to make a difference. They're willing to take a stand for whatever they believe, even to die for a cause. When they sell out to Jesus, they'll pursue a standard of righteousness that is greater than anything you and I ever saw growing up. Don't water it down. Don't lower the standard. And don't just settle for raising it-raise it higher. Believe in your children. Talk with them. Speak well of them. Encourage them. Pray for them. Celebrate the victories with them. Affirm their growth. We can raise a generation that, although they'll make mistakes, will sell out completely when Jesus grips them. They'll give Him everything. They'll make you proud by being even weirder than you are.

You ought to thirst for the living water.