Best 653 quotes in «angels quotes» category

No amount of sin-finding on Earth will bring you any closer to God. You won’t get a gold star on your soul when you return to Heaven, nor will anyone greet you with congratulations for identifying sinners on Earth and all their sinny, sin sins.

No demon could ever care enough to let go." ~ Muse

Not everyone who comes to your doorstep with a bowl is a beggar. Some of them are actually winged creatures in disguise.

November 11, 2018 ...(2+0+1+8= 11) 11:11:11 When you see 11:11, it is a spiritual message to remind you that you are the creator of your own reality and you need to take responsibility for it. Your current situation is the result of your past thoughts and actions. By taking a proactive approach, you can become aware of what you think, what you say, and what you do in order to completely take charge of your life.

Now, Kieran whispered those names in the darkness of the night as if they were prayers, when sleep was a sluggish yet heavy pull on his eyelids, when his thoughts would start to slowly evaporate in tandem, when he was lonesome for his Angels.

Now talking about my best friends, Samara and Zara, I need to write they are perfect in being really my friends and they have been a part of my support in the present days and I am content to have them beside me here in the Campus. Accidentally Angels 2 - Pet TorreS

Not all angels are good. The fallen angels of Heaven were banished here to Earth when they rebelled against God. If you are on a quest seeking angels, take great care. Even Satan himself masquerades as an angel of the light.

Oh No! My wings are effed up!

No one is only good or only bad. We have a bit of both inside of us all.

Of all the places in the world, you ended up in New Orleans?” I asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. Michael nodded. “Yes,” he agreed, apparently not registering the sarcasm. “Please,” I muttered, pulling a face. “Hurricanes, poverty, homes that are never going to be rebuilt, oil spills... this city has had so much crap thrown at it, and you’re telling me that there are angels here?” Again, Michael nodded. “Yes. Regardless of what has happened or what is happening, this city fights.” Okay, he may have had a point. The citizens of New Orleans were resilient; I’d give him that.

Of course we dance with our demons. Our angels are far too shy.

Once a human brain becomes aware of another kind of self within, it’s like unlocking all new powers and abilities for you, the soul. You’ll go from witness to creator, and your influence over the brain will only grow stronger and stronger as the brain matures. The brain begins to relax in a way, and finally gives power over willingly to the soul.

Once upon a time Sister Mary Margaret had answered a loud knocking at the door of the orphanage. It was very early one morning, before the city was awake. All the pigeons had their heads tucked under their wings and all the rats were curled up tight behind the dustbins. All the cars and lorries were asleep in their garages and depots, and all the trains slumbered on their tracks at Connolly Station. All the boats bobbed gently in the harbor, dreaming of the high seas, and all the bicycles slept leaning along the fences. Even the angels were asleep at the foot of the O’Connell Monument, fluttering their wings as they dreamt, quite forgetting to hold still and pretend to be statues.

Once you talk to your angels you will never feel truly alone ever again in this lifetime.

One day, it will all make sense, it will all be revealed. Until then, we learn to live and accept our shadows, our Déjà vu's, our dreams, our intuition that takes us to places that our minds never conceived, our bodies only perceived and our souls gladly remembered. Conversations and experiences amuse me, for I am experimenting with my feelings in ways that I can only do down here. Language makes up for a very interesting, yet bizarre way of putting thoughts into spoken form for the sound to move on in other peoples' ears, but every language, every sound, every word carries with it a long history, a deep culture and the souls of the many people who have previously used it throughout the centuries. Our hearts give us direction, hope and the passion to keep moving forward.. But what we do when they're frozen, broken, torn apart by an unhealthy way of living is what gives us new strength to push forward or kills us completely. Deep inside, we feed the entities that empower the fight between our internal demons and angels. We feed them with our thoughts, our emotions, our self-talk and the external talk that we lower our shields to at times. Whether good or bad, this brings about a change internally and at times there isn't much we can do to protect ourselves. At times, we need to let things be and go along with it. Of course, we're all worried, stressed, confused and lacking direction at times and we're in the same way at peace, stable and walking in the right direction once we get things sorted. Give it some time, give it some light, give it some love. You're not very far away.

One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.

one morning in my early twenties when feeling quite suicidal I got into my locked car and someone had done a reversal the Hawaiian necklace that hung on the rearview mirror had been turned around backwards in an event so queer in that moment I knew I was not alone in my struggles and that all would be okay if I simply forgot my troubles let it be known that you’ve got watchful guardian angels I’ll tell you of yet another way that they make me so grateful their presence and assistance is often noticed as such: a shot of high frequency energy is felt as they touch receiving a ringing in an ear while my mind goes meditative spiritually put back on track with a reminder of my objective because of the prayers I practice this is how I’m aided your experiences may vary out of not caring to be persuaded how often do you call out for help from on high? it’s their pleasure to assist if you’d just ask them to come by I can tell you straight away, they know your thoughts and exactly how you’re feeling when you’re distraught seeing you scanning this sentence as they’re in your presence do you feel their love or have you taken a rigid stance?

.O God My Father, is given strength in the unique way of healing anointed to bless and to prosper...

One of the best parts of being a Guardian is that we get a chance to grow and change. We get to exist in both worlds. We know the secret of life and have the knowledge of death

One of the nicest things you can do is to speak kind words about someone behind his or her back.

One-winged angels, she thought. Perhaps that is what love makes us. To fly, we have to embrace each other.

Only through forgiving can we understand that there is nothing and no one to forgive. And that we too, if we have hurt someone, have been for them, nothing more than an instrument of Love in the same way they have been for us. In the Oneness there is no separation, no judgment, and everything happens in Divine Perfection.

O smile, going where? O upturned look: new, warm, receding surge of the heart--; alas, we are that surge. Does then the cosmic space we dissolve in taste of us? Do the angels reclaim only what is theirs, their own outstreamed existence, or sometimes, by accident, does a bit of us get mixed in? Are we blended in their features like the slight vagueness that complicates the looks of pregnant women? Unnoticed by them in their whirling back into themselves? (How could they notice?)

Our fascination with feminine beauty is elemental. It is said that men wish to possess the princess and women wish to be the princess, but I believe that is only part of the truth. We are drawn to extraordinary beauty mindlessly and purposelessly; we flutter on dusty moth wings toward the effulgence with no understanding of why we do it. Perhaps when we see a woman with the aspect of an angel, our souls are tricked into following her, mistaking her for a guide to paradise. The opposite, of course, is also true.

Out here, the open night is my church, the trees are my congregation, the stars are my angels and the moon is the only god that I know.

Over the years, numerous times, too many times to count, just as I was about to reach my breaking point, just when I thought I couldn't take another minute, another second, out of nowhere-at the grocery store, at the park, at restaurants-angels, Ethan's angels, would appear and save us: strangers in stores would stop to talk to Ethan; neighbors took him for a walk...

Over the years of being stuck in this shit hole called life, I had debated religion and church, souls and freewill, heaven and hell. I had come to a few conclusions. Mankind was too self-serving to understand what He had wanted from them. It wasn’t a million dollar church, it wasn’t perfection, it wasn’t about how many times you prayed or apologized or that one day a month where you fed the homeless. And you weren’t banished to hell for that one time you told someone to fuck off. You didn’t end up in hell for that time you were a bitch to your fellow man. It took a lot to end up there, and man worked at it with crazed enthusiasm. They worked harder at chiseling their way into hell, than any other action.

Pain, sorrow, anger, these are all powerful emotions. Allowed to rule and left unchecked, they would destroy you. However, through training and willpower you can choose to harness those feelings and use them for something great.

People don’t just watch the horrible news happening around the world. They take it in like food. They feed themselves with all the pain and suffering, because they think digesting it this way will somehow make them more immune to it.

People thank God when God no longer sits on the throne. The angels descend down to deliver miracles because they are trying to maintain the face of God. In the end, you must place your hopes and prayers with the angels. It has become quite sad in Heaven without its puppet master.

People who are unable to stand within the dark places of life, those who are always running towards their happy places, are the same things as candles without flames. There is no worth in a candle without a flame, and we only add the flame when there is darkness. Without darkness, there would be no need for warriors and angels. Warriors are not made because the whole world is happy and angels were not formed because there are no demons. Be of worth, have a flame.

Oh, this is not the time for us to get into that meshugenah debate again! Look, the point is that Jesus of Nazareth, who is a very big deal to the Boss, regardless of whatever metaphysically bewildering relationship they may have, has gone missing, on the eve of the single most important event in the history of Creation. The sentence parses, don’t look at me like that. And, through a comical series of events far too elaborate to detail here, you and I are going to be held directly responsible unless we figure out a way to fix this, and I mean yesterday! And I’m not being poetic, we’re angels, we can totally do that.

Over the years, numerous times, too many times to count, just as I was about to reach my breaking point, just when I thought I couldn't take another minute, another second, out of nowhere-at the grocery store, at the park, at restaurants-angel, Ethan's angels, would appear and safe us: strangers in stores would stop to talk to Ethan; neighbors took him for a walk...

O, weary angels, don’t look at me with those eyes. If that is your state then what of our cries? What can I tell you of goodness that you don’t already know? What can I tell you of faith, of hope and love that you yourselves bestow? O, angels, don’t pluck another feather, this isn’t the sky, it’s just the weather. Please, angels, try. We are one all together. Look up and listen, I’ll say it once and then put down my pen: We are sorry for our ignorance and even though we are worldly, it might happen again. We are sorry for your weariness and even though you aren’t worldly, we are no more than human.

Perhaps, Howard thought, the curtains and murals and pastel angels are a mercy, a dim reflection of things fit for the fragility of human beings.

Perhaps it is true that all that happens is in accordance with Your will, and thus it is good. But sometimes You leave blood on Your instruments.

Perhaps the whole of life is a continuous interconnecting of miracle, but we don't always realise it.

Prayer is the soul’s nursery, where hopes and dreams find sustenance, where make-believe awakens into faith proved real.

Prayer is not escape from but escape to, and the difference is important. When you take human form, you are not choosing to live in a prison, even one of Heaven’s design. Rather, you are choosing for a time to breathe the air of conflict, and taste the bitter herbs of higher learning. Prayer is an escape back to God’s own bosom, where the soul retreats not for pity but for rest.

People refuse to believe in their higher selves, and think Heaven is in some far-off place due north. This Santa Claus conundrum is troubling for those of us who see light and life as it really is, but for humans stuck in their 2-D theology, it’s the best they’ve been able to come up with so far.

Real religion does not mean Gods - it does not mean Angels and Demons - it does not mean miracles of healing. Real religion is all about you and your fellow humans. There is nothing else.

Realizing the seriously ruthless, venomous habits and agendas of evil always instills a more fierce passion and longing for a closer God. Men, out of pride, may claim their own authorities over what constitutes good and evil; they may self-proclaim a keen knowledge of subjective morality through religion or science. But that is only if they are acknowledging the work of evil as a cartoon-like, petty little rain cloud in the sky that merely wants to dampen one's spirits. On the contrary, a man could be without a doubt lit with the strength, the peace, and the knowledge of the gods, his gods, but when or if the devils grow weary in unsuccessful attempts to torment him, they begin tormenting his loved ones, or, if not his loved ones, anyone who may attempt to grasp his philosophies. No matter how godly he may become, God is, in the end, his only hope and his only grace for the pressures built around him - it is left up to a higher authority and a more solid peace and a wider love to eclipse not just one's own evils but all evils for goodness to ultimately matter. If all men were gods, each being would dwell in a separate prison cell, hopeless, before finally imploding into nothingness.

Redemption is won in the light, but is wrought in the darkness.

Reese trusted in sword-bearing men with wings to have his back when he was bleeding out in a ditch. Yet, Reese couldn’t bring himself to trust the God who created all things.

Reflection is a good thing. It allows us to look back in time so we can connect the dots between specific memories to reveal the purpose and meaning behind synchronistic events.

perhaps the answer is simply one: one female angel dancing alone in her stocking feet, a small jazz combo working in the background. She sways like a branch in the wind, her beautiful eyes closed, and the tall thin bassist leans over to glance at his watch because she has been dancing forever, and now it is very late, even for musicians.

She despised weakness, especially her own. She'd seared most of her emotional needs with the white-hit iron of self-reliance and independence years before. ~Angels Unaware

Remember, we who fell like stars from Heaven still shine bright in our own court.

She believed in magic—the magic of places, the magic of people, the magic of coincidences, serendipity, and fortune. She enjoyed wandering through the world with the open mind and curiosity of a four-year-old child. In her world the mystical, mythical, and magical inhabited the same space and time as the ordinary and the practical. At Bethesda Terrace, she always felt close to a source of magic and creativity. It was as if she was tapping into the place where dragons, angels, gods, sorceresses, and demons came to life.

She gazed up at the buildings and imagined angels perched on the edge of the roofs; tall slender angels with drooping wings; standing in perfect silence, watching her without expectation as if in an eternal dream: We give you the city. No one is watching. Set yourself free.