Best 10134 quotes in «light quotes» category

I touched the moon last night; a golden glow beyond my grasp. Eons before me it rested there. It will remain when I am dust. My hand now glows from the embrace. Voices echo through nights past, and with the glow, caress my face. My finger faints from what will last. Alone I am; alone secure; the moon will last when I am gone. A Master set it in its’ place, to move the tide, refresh the dawn. Unnumbered eyes have felt its rest; have looked upon reflected light. My heart is moved away from pain; I touched the moon last night.

I try to be a positive light in this cold dark world... if only with a few words from deep within my heart, I try

It's a hypothesis. History won't take us far enough to confirm it. And our certainties never really hold water. One day you feel like dying and the next you realize all you had to do was go down a few stairs to find the light switch so you could see things a bit more clearly.

It's always darkest before you're blinded by the light

It's an interesting spell. You ask the light to go straight through a thing instead of bouncing off the sides. Took me a long time to get it right. I learned you gotta be real polite when you ask light to do anything.

It's dark because you're trying too hard," said Susila. "Dark because you want it to be light. Remember what you used to tell me when I was a little girl. 'Lightly, child, lightly. You've got to learn to do everything lightly. Think lightly, act lightly, feel lightly. Yes, feel lightly, even though you're feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.' I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig. Lightly, lightly—it was the best advice ever given me. Well, now I'm going to say the same thing to you, Lakshmi . . . Lightly, my darling, lightly. Even when it comes to dying. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic. No rhetoric, no tremolos, no self-conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Goethe or Little Nell. And, of course, no theology, no metaphysics. Just the fact of dying and the fact of the Clear Light. So throw away all your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That's why you must walk so lightly. Lightly, my darling. On tiptoes; and no luggage, not even a sponge bag. Completely unencumbered.

It's during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.

It seems to me that when you look back at a life - yours or another's - what you see is a path that weaves into and out of deep shadow. So much is lost. What we use to construct the past is what has remained in the open, a hodgepodge of fleeting glimpses. Our histories, like my father's current body, are structures built of toothpicks. So what I recall of that last summer in New Bremen is a construct of both what stands in the light and what I imagine in the dark where I cannot see.

It's just... You sound like lorde. But like, with maple syrup.

It’s like we are having a harvest of destruction in our nations, continent and world today, all because of ignorance.

It’s not in the book or in the writer that readers discern the truth of what they read; they see it in themselves, if the light of truth has penetrated their minds.

It's not easy to be Light when you've been Dark. It's almost too much to ask anyone. -Macon Ravenwood

It’s not the light that’s attracting me, but the darkness that’s driving me on.

It’s on the third night, during our game, that I answer the question eating away at me. Crazy Cat becomes a metaphor for my situation. I am Buttercup. Peeta, the thing I want so badly to secure, is the light. As long as Buttercup feels he has the chance of catching the elusive light under his paws, he’s bristling with aggression. (That’s how I’ve been since I left the arena, with Peeta alive.) When the light goes out completely, Buttercup’s temporarily distraught and confused, but he recovers and moves on to other things. (That’s what would happen if Peeta died.) But the one thing that sends Buttercup into a tailspin is when I leave the light on but put it hopelessly out of his reach, high on the wall, beyond even his jumping skills. He paces below the wall, wails, and can’t be comforted or distracted. He’s useless until I shut the light off. (That’s what Snow is trying to do to me now, only I don’t know what form his game takes.)

It's super cloudy right now but I think I can see the northern lights from my room. Another observation: Every light is a strobe light, if you just blink fast enough, and drink enough vodka. -Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz

It's the colors that will make you stray. They sing to you, the not-blue and the searing light, and no matter how tightly you tie yourself to the inbetween, eventually you will break free. No one swims only in the shallow water.

It's through the cross that we reach the resurrection. We should be absolutely sure of this truth, and we should keep this cross hidden and not place it on the shoulders of others. It is our cross we have to carry. It is the one God has given us to go through into His resurrection. This is the one we should keep hidden. But there are crosses and crosses, some of our own making. These we should immediately discard. Some permitted by God for our sanctification. These we can share for they are also for the sanctification of others. True, we can help to carry other people's crosses and they can help to carry our crosses, but the operative word is "hidden." The Lord said, "So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honoured by men," and "When you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." (Mt 6:16-18) Our very hiddenness becomes a light if we do not complain, if we carry our cross manfully, ready to help in the carrying of other people's crosses. Then we become a light to our neighbour's feet because we become an icon of Christ—shining!

It's true. The storms won't last forever. The nasty weather will never last. There is always that light at the end of the tunnel.

It's your words that gave me courage. It became my light that would guide me towards the right path again. -Jellal Fernandes

It takes darkness to be aware of the light.

It takes greater faith to dance in the dark than to rest in light.

It takes wisdom, power and influence to be able to make a positive impact on what goes on in society and in the nation as a whole.

It takes you to bring the hidden wonders into light. Decide to make it happen.

It takes the light in our hearts to see magic that is invisible to most people.

It was impossible not to smile back-Nick radiated light.

It was as if his song was one voice, calling out into the darkness until it was answered by another, harmonizing with its own unique voice and emotion to create something even more beautiful than the sum of its parts.

It was all glimmer and warm honey in the yellow light.

It was all real and blazing with detail. But I was shadow, light as mist, mute as the wallpaper.

It was never the poverty that deterred me, never the disease, unsanitary conditions, bugs or garbage, those things were never even a thought in my head as a reason for not staying. I kept looking for the good and always found it each day. I was happy on the reservation. It would have all worked out if Chief could have been a little nicer to me. The only thing I was missing was love and respect from my partner. Maybe he had changed.

I used to be afraid of the dark until I learned that I am light and the dark is afraid of me.

It was tall, made of pale blue light, a creature with long arms and long legs and the shadow of a smile, and above it all, eyes that shone bluer still than its body. "What do you seek in this place?" the shade asked plainly.

It would appear that the blue sky is actually produced by the solar wind and solar radiation exciting air molecules to emit light, just like a neon lamp!

I urge you to listen. I beg you to pay attention for these are the most important words I will ever pen: Do not succumb to the half-life! To the indifference and apathy of those cool and aloof individuals. Nothing affects them, their lover cries out desperately for affection but they shrug their shoulders—for they are always shrugging— and transcend the messy drama of the human situation. O this transcendental invincibility—I tell you: the shit of the bull! We are not gods. We are human. Even Christ chose immanence so He could feel as the people felt, suffer as they did. You must revel in your neuroses, your sensitivities and sensibilities. Burn your excitable character, do not extinguish this fire. Stay within. Taste the immediacy of living. Be in life with others. Do not yield to the hypocrisy the world demands! Do not succumb to the shadows, to the half-light, to the half-life. We are not gods. Be human.

I've learned that the hands that made the light created the darkness, and that no one is good without a good measure of bad.

I’ve got to stop looking at you, like you light my world. You’re the dark cloud which brings the rain. You’re the hurricane which destroys my peace. You are not the sun. I am my own light.

I walk alone in the dark. But the Creator shines a light on my path.

I view the modern workplace as somewhere you go to have your long term health severely damaged.

I was downstairs, reading." " Now?" I strained to see her face. She was smiling, it appeared. "Yes, now," she said. "It's nice, sometimes, to read in the middle of the night. The sky is so dark and soft-looking outside the window, all the stars out. You have just on light on, you know, and it seems to pour onto the page. Makes the book seem better. You are this little island, just up alone with a book. And you heard the night sounds of the house...It's so interesting to me, that sound. Time. The measure of it.

I want to be the light in someone's darkness, I want someone to smile watching mine, I want to be an aura to outshine hatred! I want me to be- 'Love'.

I was born upon the prairie, where the wind blew free, and there was nothing to break the light of the sun. I was born where there were no enclosures, and where everything drew a free breath." the Great Comanche war chief, Ten Bears

I was in no tent under leaves, sleepless and glad. There was no moon at all; along the world’s coasts the sea tides would be springing strong. The air itself also has lunar tides; I lay still. Could I feel in the air an invisible sweep and surge, and an answering knock in the lungs? Or could I feel the starlight? Every minute on a square mile of this land one ten thousandth of an ounce of starlight spatters to earth. What percentage of an ounce did that make on my eyes and cheeks and arms, tapping and nudging as particles, pulsing and stroking as waves?

I was once in darkness, but now, the light of God has shone upon me.

I was taught to follow the light, but the light got me lost, I was taught to see the light, but the light blinded my sight. It was the light who gave me judgment, and the judge was cruel and sick, I was taught to love the light, but darkness woke me up, and I was free.

I was waiting for you," said Gregory. "Might I have a moment's conversation?" "Certainly. About what?" asked Syme in a sort of weak wonder. Gregory struck out with his stick at the lamp-post, and then at the tree. "About this and this," he cried; "about order and anarchy. There is your precious order, that lean, iron lamp, ugly and barren; and there is anarchy, rich, living, reproducing itself--there is anarchy, splendid in green and gold." "All the same," replied Syme patiently, "just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree.

i want to be in love with you the same way i am in love with the moon with the light shining out of its soul.

I want to think about trees. Trees have a curious relationship to the subject of the present moment. There are many created things in the universe that outlive us, that outlive the sun, even, but I can’t think about them. I live with trees. There are creatures under our feet, creatures that live over our heads, but trees live quite convincingly in the same filament of air we inhabit, and in addition, they extend impressively in both directions, up and down, shearing rock and fanning air, doing their real business just out of reach.

I was once in darkness, but now, I see a bright light on my path.

I was travelling through a tunnel of light. The more I travelled, the lighter I felt. I was filled with a kind of ecstasy that I had never known before. I was moving closer and closer to the source of this beautiful light. All I wanted was to merge with that light. But suddenly I fell, like a flower falling off its stem, and returned to my body.

I welcome injustice, because injustice gives me something to strive for. We need the darkness, for it allows the light to shine. God’s greatest gift to mankind is Satan, because evil gives us something to strive against.

...I will find once again the light of your beauty - your colored windows in the night...