Best 2438 quotes in «angel quotes» category

I've always felt like I had a guardian angel in some of those ways.

I've always believed in experiencing everything in life. When you walk out with blinders on, you cut yourself off from the angels and the fairies.

I've always seen the bright lights of the angels, and I know that lower-entities can't disguise this light, because it only comes from the Love of God.

I’ve always seen you, angel. From the moment you found me, I’ve seen nothing but you.

I've always said it's interesting to watch devils cry when angels want to stab you in the back. I like that mixture.

I've buried six Guardian Angels who have been shot and killed in the line of duty. I was stalked myself, had a gunman go pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, five hollow point bullets, God save me. What do you think this is? This isn't Zimmerman. But unfortunately, he's become the face of Block Watch, Crime Watch.

I've built many doorways and set out traps so that no one will be able to reach this place. That's what the angel said. This is a castle of darkness for the angel and I alone. Only within this yielding gloom can I lament the misfortune that has rained down all around me, only here am I permitted to scorn and pity the ugliness, the filthiness of how I smile and pretend at being pure in the light of day.

I've got The Father on my side, Jesus Christ, The Holy Spirit and 2/3 of the angels. What do you think I'm going to do? Sit down and cry?

I've never done too much inquiry into angels.

I've never spoken with an angel, though one time I felt the awesome weight and glory of God's presence in an angel in my bedroom as I kneeled in prayer. I kept my eyes closed, good Baptist that I was at the time, so I never knew if it was an angel. (I now am reasonably confident it was.)

I've read everything Thomas Wolfe ever wrote; my brother and I memorized whole chapters of 'You Can't Go Home Again' and 'Look Homeward, Angel.'

I've told Kamal Haasan, Amitabh Bachchan, Naseeruddin Shah, Nana Patekar, I just want to touch you. They are the gods of acting. When people call me God, I say, no, I'm still an angel or saint of acting. I still have a long way to go.

I wanted to get an angel wings tatooed on my back, as a guardian thing.

I want to protect my own happiness. I'm not an angel. I'm just a normal girl.

I want to be one of the artists in the cathedral on the great plain. I want to make a dragon's head, an angel, a devil - or perhaps a saint - out of stone.

I want to win when the whole world is watching, ... I want to win a World Series in an Angels uniform.

I was at Yankee Stadium one time at 5 a.m., but that was to buy angel dust

I was a shy ugly kid who led a big fantasy life. I thought I was an angel sent from heaven, to cure polio. When Dr. Salk did that I was really pissed off.

I was an angel of the desert. In your arms I broke my wings.

I was constantly around all those religious images and to me, angels exist. I feel we were definitely guided and helped and I'm always referring to them in my work.

I was shocked when I found out who the biggest failure in the Bible actually is...The biggest one in the whole Bible is God...I mean, He lost His top-ranking, most anointed angel; the first man He ever created; the first woman He ever created; the whole earth and all the fullness therein; a third of the angels, at least - that's a big loss, man....Now, the reason you don't think of God as a failure is He never said He's a failure. And you're not a failure till you say you're one.

I wasn't sent here to find angels! I wasn't sent here to dream of them. I wasn't sent here to hear them sing! I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry.

I was raised in a religion that hardly ever acknowledges angels, and I never even heard of Michael until I was older. Angels were relegated to Christmas and Valentines, so I didn't really have any kind framework to understand this, even though my parents were open to things like intuition and psychic abilities and manifesting.

I wasn't sure what I'd done to deserve such a wonderful gift, and I wasn't sure if it was insolent, but I thanked God for fallen angels.

I will always be the virgin-prostitute, the perverse angel, the two-faced sinister and saintly woman.

I watched Picasso visit the Planet of the Apes, as the masters rot on walls and the angels eat the grapes.

I wish I could go back and rewrite my first book, You Bright and Risen Angels; I could do a better job. But in the meantime, nobody knows as much about my books as I do. Nobody has the right but me to say which words go into my books or get deleted or edited. When I'm dying, I'll smile, knowing I stood up for my books. If I die with more money, that wouldn't bring a smile to my face. Unless I got better drugs or more delicious-looking nurses.

I would not have lasted a minute, literally a minute, on this Earth without God and angels by my side, because I was born. And right as I was born, I went into a respiratory arrest. So, big things that keep me going are friends and family, God. And another thing is looking forward to what's going to happen tomorrow.

I wonder what becomes of lost opportunities? Perhaps our guardian angel gathers them up as we drop them, and will give them back to us in the beautiful sometime when we have grown wiser, and learned how to use them rightly.

I wouldn't have been sent back to help you," Tristan continued. "I wouldn't have been made an angel if it weren't important that you live, Ivy. I want you to be mine" -Ivy could hear the pain in his voice- "but you're not." "I am!" she cried out loud. "We're on different sides of a river," he said, "and it's a river that neither of us can cross. You were meant for somebody else.

I write to invite the voices in, to watch the angel wrestle, to feel the devil gather on its haunches and rise. I write to hear myself breathing. I write to be doing something while I wait to be called to my appointment with death. I write to be done writing. I write because writing is fun.

I write first drafts with only the good angel on my shoulder, the voice that approves of everything I write. This voice does'nt ask questions like, Is this good? Is this a poem? Are you a poet? I keep this voice at a distance, letting only the good angel whisper to me: Trust yourself. You can't worry a poem into existence.

I wrote Murder at the Windmill. And it was accepted and we made it and it was the first film I made with Danny Angel, well the only film I actually made... I made a lot of it at the Windmill itself.

I wrote the song 'Angels Standing By'... to try and soothe myself - rock myself to sleep, basically - because I was so scared and stressed.

Jamie was more than just the woman I loved. In the year Jamie helped me become the man I am today. With her steady hand she showed how important it was to help others; with her patience and kindness she showed me what life really is all about. Her cheerfulness and optimism, even in times of sickness, was the most amazing thing I have ever witnessed . . . Jamie also thought me the value of forgiveness and the transforming power it offers . . . Jamie was not only the angel who saved Tom Thornton, she was the angel who saved us all.

Jane Kindred’s THE HOUSE OF ARKHANGEL'SK dazzles with its surreal blending of worlds. Lost angel Anazakia, last survivor of her murdered family, finds herself in the hands of demons with suspect motives, betrayed by her own kind, stranded in the world of Man—21st century St. Petersburg, Russia, to be exact. Weaving startling visuals with compelling characters, Kindred reveals parallels in the two worlds that are ‘neither haphazard chance nor calculated design.’ It’s a dizzying, vibrant read.

Jill told me that when you're really in love, you know right away. I'm not exactly sure how this happens. Is it like a flash of lightning? Like an angel tapping you on the shoulder? Or is it similar to choosing a puppy? You think you're picking the cutest one, but really you wind up going home with the one who keeps insisting on climbing into your lap.

Jem drew back from her, looking dazed. "By the Angel," he said. "Perhaps we do need a chaperon.

Jesus honored her before all ages, and will honor her for all ages. No one comes to Him, nor even near Him, no one is saved or sanctified, if he too will not honor her. This is the lot of Angels and of men.

Kings were wont to honour philosophers, but if I had such I would honour them as angels that should have such piety in them that they would not seek where they are the second to be the first, and where the third to be the second and so forth.

Jump, and you will find out how to unfold your wings as you fall.

Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too.

Just so you know, I’m goin’ to enlist.” “I’m proud of you. But why?” I groan against the pain but manage to give him a half smile. “I want to make sure Kiara’s got a boyfriend who has more to offer than a hot bod and a face that could make angels weep.

Kiss an angel good morning and love her like the devil when you get back home.

Kindness is the touch of an angel's hand.

Kind words are the music of the world. They have a power which seems to be beyond natural causes, as if they were some angel's song which had lost its way and come to earth.

large part of our purpose in life is to be of service to the rest of us.

Language, at least, may give up the secrets of life and death, leading us through the maze to the original Word as monster or angel, to the mournful place where we may meet Job and hear his cry, 'How long will you vex my soul and break me in pieces with words?

Laughing at ourselves is possible when we are able to see humanity as it is - a little lower than the angels and at times only slightly higher than the apes.

Last night we told you that none of the angels remember where we landed when we fell," Daniel said. "Yeah, about that... How's it possible?" Shelby said. "You'd think that kind of thing would leave an impression on the old memorizer." Cam's face reddened. "You try falling for nine days through multiple dimensions and trillions of miles, landing on your face, breaking your wings, rolling around concussed for who knows how long, wandering the desert for decades looking for any clue as to who or what or where you are - then talk to me about the old memorizer.