Best 2438 quotes in «angel quotes» category

If you are stupid enough not to know the difference between the devil and the angel, you quickly find the devil! This is what happens to most people in democracies just after elections!

If you want to know what heaven is like, marry an angel.

I had braced myself for imminent death, and there you exploded upon us like some avenging angel. I have grown used to the idea that human beings die or they betray and I could only rely on myself, but that's not true anymore. I feel I can trust you. That may seem so small an admission, but from me, it is the greatest compliment I can ever give.

I know the scent of betrayal. I may be kind to you, but don't mistake my kindness for weakness. After all, the Angels have a sharp sword too

I knew I was in danger from the moment I proposed visiting you a second time. I knew because God warned me by sending the whirlwind that pulled a few feathers.' 'But you still came every year.' 'God is my maker but not my master. And I don't think he was saying “Thou shalt not”, rather, “I think you're going to regret this..”' 'So, you go freely, with hints. If God made a suggestion to me I'm sure I'd take it. I mean, I assume He has, but I've misunderstood.

I know that you're a virgin and as bodiless as any paralytic. I know I'm old and not as handsome as I once was. But I know you love me as I love you.' And he kissed the angel.

I miss the stars the most. They give off their light, completely unaware or heedless of the life and death taking place beneath them. It doesn’t matter to them whether the angels win this war. Or the demons. Whether the whole world burns. In the end, they’ll still be there. Constant and true.

I'll never see Ivy alive again. But she's still everywhere. In every drop of bubbling swamp water. In every leaf hanging from every tree. In every speck of swamp mud. In every blade of grass. In every gift she left behind for me: two sacks of miscellaneous objects, a grass bracelet, her home, her love, and my life. A swamp angel named Ivy lived in my backyard. And now she doesn't. But wherever she is, I know she's watching me. Just like the angel she's always been.

I’m by myself,” she said finally. “No family to speak of.” “I see.” Leaning forward again, he rested his arms against the table. “That must be rather difficult.” “Sometimes.” “And lonely, I imagine. Perhaps that is why you came here tonight?” Her jaw popped under the strain of maintaining decorum. “First: I said I was alone, not lonely. There's a big difference. And second: is that really why you think I'm here?” “I do not know what to think. I know you must have reasons for being here other than what you have already hinted at. Reasons important enough to make an otherwise intelligent woman not only bring food to a stranger so late at night, but also accept his invitation to sit inside an empty motel room without a second thought.” “Why don't you just call me a hooker while you're at it?

I'm not an atheist," he says suddenly. "Oh?" He nods. "Because on the night of my fifth birthday, I prayed for an angel to watch over me." He slurps his milk, then looks up at me with a milk mustache. "And God brought you to the dock." My eyes well up with tears as I watch him turn back to his mug.

I’m not leaving you. Right here, right now is the happiest I’ve ever been. I love you. That means I don’t leave. Sorry.

I landed on my side, my hip taking the brunt of the fall. It burned and stung from the hit, but I ignored it and struggled to sit up quickly. There really was no point in hurrying so no one would see. Everyone already saw A pair of jean-clad legs appeared before me, and my suitcase and all my other stuff was dropped nearby. "Whatcha doing down there?" Romeo drawled, his hands on his hips as he stared down at me with dancing blue eyes. "Making a snow angel," I quipped. I glanced down at my hands, which were covered with wet snow and bits of salt (to keep the pavement from getting icy). Clearly, ice wasn't required for me to fall. A small group of girls just "happened by", and by that I mean they'd been staring at Romeo with puppy dog eyes and giving me the stink eye. When I fell, they took it as an opportunity to descend like buzzards stalking the dead. Their leader was the girl who approached me the very first day I'd worn Romeo's hoodie around campus and told me he'd get bored. As they stalked closer, looking like clones from the movie Mean Girls, I caught the calculating look in her eyes. This wasn't going to be good. I pushed up off the ground so I wouldn't feel so vulnerable, but the new snow was slick and my hand slid right out from under me and I fell back again. Romeo was there immediately, the teasing light in his eyes gone as he slid his hand around my back and started to pull me up. "Careful, babe." he said gently. The girls were behind him so I knew he hadn't seen them approach. They stopped as one unit, and I braced myself for whatever their leader was about to say. She was wearing painted-on skinny jeans (I mean, really, how did she sit down and still breathe?) and some designer coat with a monogrammed scarf draped fashionably around her neck. Her boots were high-heeled, made of suede and laced up the back with contrasting ribbon. "Wow," she said, opening her perfectly painted pink lips. "I saw that from way over there. That sure looked like it hurt." She said it fairly amicably, but anyone who could see the twist to her mouth as she said it would know better. Romeo paused in lifting me to my feet. I felt his eyes on me. Then his lips thinned as he turned and looked over his shoulder. "Ladies," he said like he was greeting a group of welcomed friends. Annoyance prickled my stomach like tiny needles stabbing me. It's not that I wanted him to be rude, but did he have to sound so welcoming? "Romeo," Cruella DeBarbie (I don't know her real name, but this one fit) purred. "Haven't you grown bored of this clumsy mule yet?" Unable to stop myself, I gasped and jumped up to my feet. If she wanted to call me a mule, I'd show her just how much of an ass I could be. Romeo brought his arm out and stopped me from marching past. I collided into him, and if his fingers hadn't knowingly grabbed hold to steady me, I'd have fallen again. "Actually," Romeo said, his voice calm, "I am pretty bored." Three smirks were sent my way. What a bunch of idiots. "The view from where I'm standing sure leaves a lot to be desired." One by one, their eyes rounded when they realized the view he referenced was them. Without another word, he pivoted around and looked down at me, his gaze going soft. "No need to make snow angels, baby," he said loud enough for the slack-jawed buzzards to hear. "You already look like one standing here with all that snow in your hair." Before I could say a word, he picked me up and fastened his mouth to mine. My legs wound around his waist without thought, and I kissed him back as gentle snow fell against our faces.

I’m Emma. I’m here to make you see the meaning of your life.” Her exalted words were totally conquered by her dragging tone and lack of eye contact.

I’m going to ask you a question,” I said. “And I want an answer this time, no dodging and no playing cryptic. Is the reason you’re leaving because you need to look for Nicholas, or because you want to get away from me?” Daniel looked me square in the eye, unblinking. “The first thing accomplishes the second, now doesn’t it?

I'm not leaving you. We still have a chance." "How?" Kayson's voice echoes his hopelessness. He's already given up. "Hey, as long as we are still breathing, we still have a chance. If you quit, then you're quitting on me too.

I’m of the camp that if an angel tells you one thing, and a man in ruby slippers tells you another, you go with the angel.

I'm sorry if me being turned on turns you on.

I never heerd...nor read of nor see in picters, any angel in tights and gaiters...but...he's a reg'lar thoroughbred angel for all that.

In August of 1998, I completed Seize the Night, the sequel to my novel Fear Nothing, one of many of my books in which a dog is among the cast of principal characters. Every time I wrote a story that included a canine, my yearning for a dog grew. Readers and critics alike said I had an uncanny knack for writing convincingly about dogs and even for writing from a dog's point of view. When a story contained a canine character, I always felt especially inspired, as if some angel watching over me was trying to tell me that dogs were a fundamental part of my destiny if only I would listen.

In Hell... bad is good... and I am second only to the Devil.

Insert the biggest, most awkward silence in the history of big awkward silences. I stare at him. I'm suddenly exhausted by all the lies I've told him. He's my friend, and I lie to him every day. He deserves better. I wish I could tell him then, more than anything I've ever wanted. I wish I could stand in front of him and truly be myself and tell him everything. But it's against the rules.

In the absence of deliberate cruelty, the harshness of his face and the fullness of his mouth just looked sullen and a little wicked. An angel frozen into a tableau of marmoreal perfection as he contemplated his imminent fall from grace.

I recall the wind, the lilacs, the gray, the perfume, the song, and the wind, but I don't recall what the angel said.

I opened the window to let some fresh air into the room and was surprised to see that the rain was not just falling, but that it formed an actual wall of water, as if the whole sky were falling. While I was staring at the strange phenomenon, the form of an angel began to appear before me… It was Matariel, the Angel of Rain, whom I had not seen since my descent and who on this occasion appeared in a shiny, blue-grey form. She was only an arm’s length away and stared straight at me. She looked like a young woman floating on enormous wings -not a single drop of rain touched her. The smell of the cool rain swept the room as Matariel began talking to me. She never once moved her lips, but her every word was clearly audible in my head.

I remembered Robyn telling me the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and how they'd survived: when the King chucked them in the furnace and an angel or someone went in with them. The furnace blazed all around them but they didn't burn. And it did calm me. I don't know if it was Robyn or an angel or even God himself was in the boot, but I was starting to suspect that whenever I wanted God, he was there. Only not necessarily in the form I wanted, or doing what I wanted...In the pitch of the black boot I clung to the image of a fiery furnace, and it wasn't the furnace or Hell either.

It can't be anyone but you I understand the reason now Like an angel gently descending, You taught me the meaning of living on earth Whispering,"I want you to protect me," You supported my heart

I saw my first angel. And it was you.

I saw an Beautiful Angel I tried to reach for it ,spreading his wings it flew so high across the unlimited sky leaving a glow in the darkness of the night, that beautiful Angel is illuminating my world

Is it love to worship a saint in heaven, whom you dare not touch, who hovers above you like a cloud, which floats away from you even as you gaze? To love is to feel one being in the world at one with us, our equal in sin as well as in virtue. To love, for us men, is to clasp one woman with our arms, feeling that she lives and breathes just as we do, suffers as we do, thinks with us, loves with us, and, above all, sins with us. Your mock saint who stands in a niche is not a woman if she have not suffered, still less a woman if she have not sinned. Fall at the feet of your idol an you wish, but drag her down to your level after that- the only level she should ever reach, that of your heart.

It can't be anyone but you I always wondered why A million "thank you"'s piled up And before I knew it, it was love I was in love with you

It is absolutely okay if you do not have wings & halo to qualify as an Angel, but let your deeds, thoughts, conduct, reflexions & your demeanour perpetually proves that you are an Angel in the human body. Let you continuously believe that there is enough goodness all over in the world & it always prevails in the end. Let you remind yourself once again that it is always protagonist of the story who wins at the end after fighting all the odds. Let you constantly add more colours of happiness, hope, positivity, contentment & of your warmth in the environment while seeking it in everything everywhere all the time. Let everyday your sun rise & shine with all its might & turn whole colorless world into bright yellow & orange. Let your day be full of fun, joy & love. Let you, your life & your memories always remain as colorful as the festival itself or even more. Wish you a very happy & wonderful Holi.

It?” “Her. Him. Whatever.” “Angel is neither man nor woman. Men and women came later.

It is easier for devils to hate their friends than for angels to hate their enemies.

It is better to help one angel than to harm a thousand devils.

It wasn’t every day a girl lost her virginity, not to mention to a delicious, perfect specimen of man. One who had wings, to boot.

I took that mint because I wanted to. I wanted to remember who I was. I wanted to remember my family. Most of all, I wanted to remember you. I wanted to remember what we are together, and how we got to that point. I wanted you to know I remember all of those precious moments. And if I don’t make it through this, I wanted to go knowing I love you. I wanted you to know I remember why I love you.

It’s a beautiful smile. One that brightens the rat-infested attic room. No one has ever smiled like that at me. No one. Everything inside me twists with the need to keep her close. I should be pissed. Who knows if I’ll ever see the money from Eric. Who knows if Noah and I will lose the lease, sending me back into the system. Right now, I don’t f*cking care. I’m touching an angel.

It was so odd what brought out tenderness in people. It was never what you have expected.

It was wrong to do this," said the angel. "You should live like a flower, Holding malice like a puppy, Waging war like a lambkin." "Not so," quoth the man Who had no fear of spirits; "It is only wrong for angels Who can live like the flowers, Holding malice like the puppies, Waging war like the lambkins.

It is only when you are going through hell that you know who your angels are.

It is the mark of a supreme soul not know how to inflict pain on others.

It's alright to love someone who doesn't love you back, as long as they're worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.

It's amazing to me; when your mind is fixed on one thing, you forget everything. You forget to eat and drink and care. The only thing I could never forget was him.

It's filled with magic that's how I know if something's real.

It takes more courage to be yourself than to live in the prison of ego with feelings of guilt. It takes a lot more courage to be happy than to be unhappy.

I twisted my body, suddenly unable to stand his hands on me. “Do you really think I give a damn what you are? That anything else matters to me more than you, yourself? I don’t want you to stay because you think I need a protector, Daniel. I’ve been looking after myself for a very long time now, and I’ve done just fine. Dammit, have some faith in me.” “If I didn’t have faith in you, Sarah, I wouldn’t feel this way.

I used to think to myself that I was the last kind of person who should have a guardian angel, but then I realized that maybe my type of person is the kind who angels come to first.

I’ve noticed in my life that the people who act as my angels are not some strange angelic creatures that seem almost untouchable, but are more real than that. They are people who have tasted sorrow, who have felt pain, and in a way, that makes them capable of being an angel. In their darkest moments they have become strong.

I wish I could wrap up the glitter star-green of this moment and hand it to you like an angel gift. Give you the heat lightning flying in jagged silence over the distant mountains. And the smell of September prairie grass and the even fainter scent of October pine now descending . . .

I was now blinded by a flood of light, but when I realised how many countless numbers of angels were imprisoned in Bardo’s dismal prison, it took my breath away. “Gabriel!” I shouted to my leader with all my might, but he gave no sign of hearing me. “Gabriel!” I said, trying again, and it seemed that the handsome face reacted just a little. At that moment, a band of goblins reached the hall with a terrible ruckus. I had to flee. I grabbed the chains binding Gabriel and cried one last time . “Gabriel!” …the angel’s emerald green eyes looked up. He gazed deep into my eyes, . “Please forgive me,” I whispered. My chest felt like it would burst with pain from the guilt burning inside me. “I swear I’ll atone for my sin and get you out of here!” . Gabriel gave no reply, but just looked at me sadly. I would have been less tortured if he had screamed at me or come at me, but he simply let me sink into my guilt.