Best 10134 quotes in «light quotes» category

A girl like that does not deserve to be married to a man she does not love!” The doctor stared for a moment, and then burst into quite inexplicable laughter. “Are we still speaking of Helen?” he wheezed after a moment. “Yes,” snapped the matron, glaring at him. “Dear me,” said the doctor, removing his glasses and dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Such a circumstance would be very unfortunate – very, very.” The matron huffed. “The poor child is trapped in a loveless marriage – trust me. I’m a woman.” “The not-at-all-to-be-pitied girl is married to a man she adores,” the doctor said, smiling. “Trust me. I’m a man, with a wife and three daughters.” “Adores my eye!” The doctor replaced his spectacles and spoke very patiently: “Miss Bingham, only a woman who loves remembers what kind of aircraft her man flies.

A good leader is the shadow of his followers; but he guides them to follow the sun so his shadow does not earn the credit.

A joyful soul, a grateful spirit full of love and light!

A kind of northing is what I wish to accomplish, a single-minded trek towards that place where any shutter left open to the zenith at night will record the wheeling of all the sky’s stars as a pattern of perfect, concentric circles. I seek a reduction, a shedding, a sloughing off. At the seashore you often see a shell, or fragment of a shell, that sharp sands and surf have thinned to a wisp. There is no way you can tell what kind of shell it had been, what creature it had housed; it could have been a whelk or a scallop, a cowrie, limpet, or conch. The animal is long since dissolved, and its blood spread and thinned in the general sea. All you hold in your hand is a cool shred of shell, an inch long, pared so thin that it passes a faint pink light. It is an essence, a smooth condensation of the air, a curve. I long for the North where unimpeded winds would hone me to such a pure slip of bone. But I’ll not go northing this year. I’ll stalk that floating pole and frigid air by waiting here. I wait on bridges; I wait, struck, on forest paths and meadow’s fringes, hilltops and banksides, day in and day out, and I receive a southing as a gift. The North washes down the mountains like a waterfall, like a tidal wave, and pours across the valley; it comes to me. It sweetens the persimmons and numbs the last of the crickets and hornets; it fans the flames of the forest maples, bows the meadow’s seeded grasses and pokes it chilling fingers under the leaf litter, thrusting the springtails and the earthworms deeper into the earth. The sun heaves to the south by day, and at night wild Orion emerges looming like the Specter over Dead Man Mountain. Something is already here, and more is coming.

A lantern can give you light only when you light it

A leader must be taught or made to know the importance of justice for the people.

A life that is actually lived is one that is with significance.

Alla bekymmer försvinner när man möter ett barns blick. Deras ögon tar emot allt ljus i världen och sänder ut det igen.

All a hardliner has to do is to keep the door of his mind open! And then, the light will visit him! Only in light we can see the truths!

All at once I remember Ylajali. To think that I could have forgotten her the entire evening through! And light forces its way ever so faintly into my spirit again--a little ray of sunshine that makes me so blessedly warm; and gradually more sun comes, a rare, silken, balmy light that caresses me with soothing loveliness. And the sun grows stronger and stronger, burns sharply in my temples, seethes fiercely and glowingly in my emaciated brain. And at last, a maddening pyre of rays flames up before my eyes; a heaven and earth in conflagration men and beasts of fire, mountains of fire, devils of fire, an abyss, a wilderness, a hurricane, a universe in brazen ignition, a smoking, smouldering day of doom! And I saw and heard no more....

All at once, something wonderful happened, although at first, it seemed perfectly ordinary. A female goldfinch suddenly hove into view. She lighted weightlessly on the head of a bankside purple thistle and began emptying the seedcase, sowing the air with down. The lighted frame of my window filled. The down rose and spread in all directions, wafting over the dam’s waterfall and wavering between the tulip trunks and into the meadow. It vaulted towards the orchard in a puff; it hovered over the ripening pawpaw fruit and staggered up the steep faced terrace. It jerked, floated, rolled, veered, swayed. The thistle down faltered down toward the cottage and gusted clear to the woods; it rose and entered the shaggy arms of pecans. At last it strayed like snow, blind and sweet, into the pool of the creek upstream, and into the race of the creek over rocks down. It shuddered onto the tips of growing grasses, where it poised, light, still wracked by errant quivers. I was holding my breath. Is this where we live, I thought, in this place in this moment, with the air so light and wild? The same fixity that collapses stars and drives the mantis to devour her mate eased these creatures together before my eyes: the thick adept bill of the goldfinch, and the feathery coded down. How could anything be amiss? If I myself were lighter and frayed, I could ride these small winds, too, taking my chances, for the pleasure of being so purely played. The thistle is part of Adam’s curse. “Cursed is the ground for thy sake, in sorrow shalt thou eat of it; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee.” A terrible curse: But does the goldfinch eat thorny sorrow with the thistle or do I? If this furling air is fallen, then the fall was happy indeed. If this creekside garden is sorrow, then I seek martyrdom. I was weightless; my bones were taut skins blown with buoyant gas; it seemed that if I inhaled too deeply, my shoulders and head would waft off. Alleluia.

All bodies are radiant but not all radiance is visible: stars radiate visible light; planets and donkeys and couches radiate infrared waves. (If your couch is emitting visible light GET UP IMMEDIATELY!)

All hail the light, the dark, and the grey.

All people, all possible permutations of good, evil, thought, passion. The lamps are different, But the Light is the same.

All that helter-skelter about strings and memories was only relevant in the dark. It was light out now and time to put away childish things.

All these many-coloured feelings fell... like light on a black surface, producing no change, meeting no return.

All the whackjob psychologists out there will tell you that grief is a process. Some say it has five stages. Others say that grief should only last two years at the lost, otherwise it's "abnormal". Putting an expiration date of grief though is like putting out the flame on a burning candle. It might stop the candle from melting down and falling apart, but in the long run the candle goes solid, freezes in a catatonic state. Take away a person's grief and guaranteed they'll only be a frozen shell of a human being afterwards. Grief is only love, it's nothing to hide or send away with happy pills and mother's little helpers. Grief is a lifeline connecting two people who are in different realms together, and it's a sign of loyalty and hope.

All you need to know about the light is in being in the dark.

Alone a candle can only light a room, but in thousands they can even light a city.

All your life should be seen and measured in the light of eternity.

All your thoughts do nothing except turning you blind, Drop all your concepts and you will immediately find, That you are the natural light of this body and mind.

Alone in the dark, a great light illuminated my path.

Alone in the dark, the Creator lights a flame of fire, to guide my path.

A loving heart, determination, faith, courage, trust, belief, truth, and a solid soul create the wings with which we fly.

Always face the sun.

Although people all over the world pray in different ways, it is to each heart the most precious light.

Always look in the direction of sun and stars; the sacred light of life.

Always look in the direction of sun and stars; the sacred path of light.

Always. There is always time for jokes. As my father would say, humour is the spark that lights every dark.

Am I on my way toward that light? Are we always on our way toward the light like a shining blinding opening out of time and darkness? I ask myself as I walk on. I don't know where these words come from, because I'm not aware that I've ever had such thoughts before or that I've inherited such words. Is that what it's all about? Always under way? Always alone? Under way from this group in the half darkness, from these beings who will always follow us, never completely pale around us, no matter where we are, but who can be found around us in those closest to us, in those we meet, even if we travel across the sea...

A man’s life is not qualified by how much wealth, power, pleasure or control he has, but by the values of godliness he possesses.

A man who refuses light will remain in the darkness even by the side of light!

A moment later I am moving through space. Spinning. Twirling. Dancing. In the light.

A mystical symphony permeates my senses and a holy lullaby embraces me.

And if the stars should ever die, we'll make our own light, you and I.

And if you gaze for long enough into an abyss, the abyss gazes also gazes into you.

And I would give my self to this light just to have my brother and mother by each other’s side. I would swim back to the ocean and birth a creature of acceptance; I would if it let me. I would give it all away.

Anchor your life with love and light.

And God said: Let there be light, and there was light." Lena opened her eyes, feeling as if someone had been reading this verse out loud in the room. She looked around. Another morning dawned, and the sky glowed. Why did God say the word light out loud? Wasn’t it enough for him just to think of light for there to be light? And did he summon the light to one specific place? Or only to some places? Perhaps he summoned the light everywhere. Her eyes followed the sun’s beams that poured through the shutter slats, creating luminous flecks of gold that sparkled against the cabinet across from her. Tiny motes floated in the light and disappeared in the dark. Who did God created the light for?

And I wonder, at what point did I stop waiting for the light and have made peace with the darkness?

and my pack so light I’m sure I’ve left something behind— but only my worry, and only for a moment.

And now we come to the Heart of our Designe: the art of Shaddowes you must know well, Walter, and you must be instructed how to Cast them with due Care. It is only the Darknesse that can give trew Forme to our Work and trew Perspective to our Fabrick, for there is no Light without Darknesse and no Substance without Shaddowe (and I turn this Thought over in my Mind: what Life is there which is not a Portmanteau of Shaddowes and Chimeras?). I build in the Day to bring News of the Night and of Sorrowe, I continued, and then I broke off for Walter's sake.

And so I tell you, restless one, that no matter what happens, when things get dark, look to the light and keep moving forward in faith.

And that’s the end,” she said, and she saw in his eyes, as the interest of the story died away in them, something else take its place; something wondering, pale, like the reflection of a light, which at once made him gaze and marvel. Turning, she looked across the bay, and there, sure enough, coming regularly across the waves first two quick strokes and then one long steady stroke, was the light of the Lighthouse. It had been lit. -To The Lighthouse.

And that’s the end,” she said, and she saw in his eyes, as the interest of the story died away in them, something else take its place; something wondering, pale, like the reflection of a light, which at once made him gaze and marvel. Turning, she looked across the bay, and there, sure enough, coming regularly across the waves first two quick strokes and then one long steady stroke, was the light of the Lighthouse. It had been lit.

And the light," Aiden said, stretching out his hand. "Look. It's perfect. Right now, especially, when the sun's low like this." I'd never really looked at light before. But now, as I watched a few insects swoop lazily through the air, I realized that Aiden was exactly right. There was a clear, amber sort of hue to it, like looking at honey through the bottom of a glass. "I can tell you're an artist," I said. Aiden looked at me. "How so?" "The light and everything. You noticing it like that. Regular people don't notice the way light looks." Aiden stared back out at the field. "You gotta pay attention," he said softly. "To all of it. Otherwise, you might miss something. Anything can change your life. You never know. You just have to be patient. And watch.

And the Light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not John 1:5 And the Light shineth in darkness; and she comprehended it not Her 7:2013 The Light still shines in darkness; and she did not know this She 6:2014 His Light continue to shine in the darkness; and she did not recognize him We 5:2015

And there I was at night, chasing after the full moon behind the clouds like a mad man in search of the reflection of the light of love in another person, without daring to light up the spark of light that I had left within myself. It was nowhere to be seen, but I felt it was out there somewhere. I've surely seen it a couple of days ago up in the sky and my eyes couldn't have lied to me, it was so beautiful, or so it appeared to be. I guess I have to stop stalking what can't be seen for awhile and let the light of the full moon find its way through my messed up soul. Maybe it's time to go to sleep and trust that another sunrise will renew what the full moon couldn't clear away tonight. During all that time, I might've not found the light of the moon, but I rested deeply with the sound of the raindrops, while gazing at the quiet river flowing slowly. What a crucial moment to be alive!

...And we left the light for the night of the street

And when the earth began to rumble and quake, as fear and frantic set in, he ran back inside the house past his wife and children, gathering all the valuables and things he thought of importance, and ran back to his car packing away. After making two trips in and out, he waited in the car for his family to come out, in fear they darted through the darkness and pelting cold rain. When everything calmed down, and the house was intact and safe, he returned putting everything back in its place, had the kids go to bed, told his wife he loves her and turned off the light.