Best 208 quotes in «place quotes» category

A child can die even in the safest place on earth- its mother's womb!

All I need to do is place my pen against paper and your love writes for me.

After all, nobody could get out from the dangerous place, something was going bad and I could be felt... (Hidden 2015)

A great workspace is like a "Toddler Playpen" for entrepreneur. It allows us accomplish our dreams in a safe environment and without any major hazard or concerns...

All events and experiences are local, somewhere. And all human enhancements of events and experiences -- all the arts -- are regional in the sense that they derive from immediate relation to felt life. It is this immediacy that distinguishes art. And paradoxically the more local the feeling in art, the more all people can share it; for that vivid encounter with the stuff of the world is our common ground. Artists, knowing this mutual enrichment that extends everywhere, can act, and praise, and criticize, as insiders -- the means of art is the life of all people. And that life grows and improves by being shared. Hence, it is good to welcome any region you live in or come to, or think of, for that is where life happens to be, right where you are.

A man`s success is hidden in the place of his labor.

All you need is a vision and everything else will fall in place. Trust me

An essential ingredient to hygge is the boundary that marks a place or delineates a moment - a fence, a circle of cushions or a stolen half hour.

Anywhere - and, it follows, nowhere - can be a place. As long as we are there, to think and talk, to listen and respond. The world, once conscious of itself in the form of human making, is a vast concert hall. What sounds there is not the divine music of celestial spheres, as the ancient Greek mathematicians believed, but the sound of one human after another issuing the daily plea: to be heard, to be understood, to be accommodated.

A place . . . a time . . . where a man can live his life full measure.

Architecture is about the understanding of the world and turning it into a more meaningful and humane place. -Juhani Pallasmaa

Art is a place where tragedy meets beauty. An artist is someone who creates the most beautiful things of his life when his soul starts bleeding.

As humans, we roam the entire world. We even venture beyond it not space. The whole planet is ours, but the whole planet is not our home. Instead, home is the ground we measure with our own two feet. And home is the place that measures us. Home is the place that names us and the place we, in turn, name. It feeds us, body and soul, and if we are living well, we feed it too. Home is the place we cultivate with our love.

At least the tears on my desk wipe away the dust that's covered this place

Be on pilgrimage To a place that's undefined, Destinationless

Books brought me places and writing kept me in place.

Doing the things you hate is living in a world of sin. Hell is staying in the place Jesus saved you from. That is, to live on your own, without God.

Don’t pack out ______________ To some people, you make life bright When you decide to dim your light Their lives will be full of darkness Do shine your light in kindness To some people, you bring out a joy With their emotions, never ever toy With your smiles, grease them with oil And make them glad when their lives boil To other people, you are the warmth That kills coldness and brings strength Don’t do it; don’t pack out Else, they will have blackout You’re on earth to do two things here Wake up and do them now; this year First, dare to grow and become better Second, help others to also become greater Never in any of the four seasons Should you neglect your gifts for any reasons The world needs you to make it a better place Don’t pack out; run your race

Everyone changes so slowly, they don't even know that they have. And everyone likes to pretend that things are just the same yet they look at you like you could bring something back that's supposed to already be here. But home is a time. Not just a place.

Every person has to prepare himself to the point where no place would be burdensome for him. The place may get bored with him, but he will not get bored; he has to get prepared to that extent. Because otherwise these are infinite places; there is no end to the places. Infinite places are there.

Everything suggests a beyond.

Find a place to think and a person to love and be happy.

Find your place in a jigsaw puzzle of our reality.

For example, the citizens will live out the value of diligence in their enterprises. They will live out the value of prudence in their finances. They will live out the value of industry in the economy. They will live out the value of love in their neighbourhood. They will live out the value of dignity of labour in the market place, etc. All these will go a long way into propelling both the economy and political life of a nation to the greatest height possible.

Ghosts do not haunt, they regress. Just as when you need to go to sleep you think of trees or lawns, you are taking instant symbolic refuge in a ready-made iconography of early safety and satisfaction. That exact place is where ghosts go.

God should always be in the first place in our lives

GreenHollyWood, I think that you asked me why I don't get out? - I'm kinda in hateful state, I hate to watch the fucking liars to lie in front of my face and backward to put the knife in my back. Why I stay home? - It's awesome place, I feel safe and out of the ignorance there is always somebody to harass for to get attention.

Half asleep and half awake, I became lost in a deep span of my version of a perfect world. A place I wanted so desperately to reach, but would never find except from within the catacombs of my mind. A place where the sun rose in the west and set in the east, where the mountains bowed to the wind like trees, and the rain sprinkled up from the ground below and onto the clouds above. A place where no one hurt or lost, or felt any tinge of desperation. A place where heartbeats were the only words needed, and music floated on the wind like dust. A place where no place was home. Where a single person could be the only sustenance needed to survive. A place where there were no yesterdays or todays, only tomorrows. A place for me to find solace, an escape from the real world I was forced to live in.

Hardened cement chunks languished on the ground. Gray dust particles spewed into every crevice. The homeless desired this place as a sheltered haven.

He tried to measure his day by tallying the hours on his wrist. I wiped it off and called him a prisoner. He placed the hours on a scale with hours from former days to compare. I took a hammer and broke it all. He bent down and picked up the shards of minutes first then swept the seconds. I told him he’d missed a spot; there were some sparkling specks left. 'What are they?' he asked. 'Those are moments,' I said. 'What are they made of?' he asked. They are times, I thought, when you win a race or win a heart. They are times when you give birth or lay something, someone to rest. When you wake up in the morning with a smile because anything is possible. When someone compliments the thing you hate most about yourself. Times when you are embarrassed. Times when you are hurtful. Times when you relish in a hearty meal. Times when you service others and are content with a well-spent day. 'What are they made of?' he asked again. 'They are made up of times when we are fully present.' I picked up one of the specks with the tip of my finger. 'Do you remember this?' I asked. 'Of course,' he said, 'I was whistling in the kitchen that morning.' 'Why?' I asked. 'Because of the knowledge that I was loved.

Home is that place where One Self feels that, that is His/Her Place.

How I miss wandering around with old souls, Aimlessly moving from one place to another How I miss all our dreams and our goals And how we've lost ourselves to find each other Seems like a playful game of hide-n-seek But that's how we'll forever play this life Loving and living the truth that we seek Until embraced we find our way to strive Gazing into strangers' eyes to find our soul mates, Knowing we're so much closer than we thought. Our heart keeps the light that forever radiates Through all the darkness, 'til love is taught And yet again we look into the skies, We see the stars, the moon, that light Missing our home beyond the nights Living in love until the end of the fight.

Humility and brokenness before God is the key to making your body the dwelling place of God

Husbands and wives need to return regularly to the kinds of romantic activities that drew them together in the first place.

Hygge is a phenomenon that reflects our way of inhabiting the world. The routines that shape our days locate us - from the places we visit to the small rituals that give us pause.

I am afraid of photographs. I am ashamed they will show where I really come from. From particles of light, a slow holding of breath as if I were filling with dirt & I am, because where I come from is a place outside and it is not normal...

I came to the state twenty years ago from the South, the gothic South. I’ve heard it called that, haven’t you, Mister Morgan? ‘Thought I was gettin’ away from all that. You know, the Tennessee Williams’ decadence, the Huey Long corruption, the brewin’ and simmerin’ violence. I actually found that I kind of missed it. Then, I found out it was all here, too, but without the charm.

I could not persuade her that a place does not merely exist, that it has to be invented in one's imagination.

I earned my place, With the tidal waves. I can't escape this feeling, That something ain't right. I called my name As I crashed the gates, Still I can't escape this feeling That something ain't right.

If God loves the world, might that not be proved in my own love for it? I prayed to know in my heart His love for the world, and this was my most prideful, foolish, and dangerous prayer. It was my step into the abyss. As soon as I prayed it, I knew that I would die. I knew the old wrong and the death that lay in the world. Just as a good man would not coerce the love of his wife, God does not coerce the love of His human creatures, not for Himself or for the world or for one another. To allow that love to exist fully and freely, He must allow it not to exist at all. His love is suffering. It is our freedom and His sorrow. To love the world as much even as I could love it would be suffering also, for I would fail. And yet all the good I know is in this, that a man might so love this world that it would break his heart.

If I lived anywhere else for the sheer love of it, it would only be farther and farther north, chasing the boreal up to the Yukon or the Northwest Territories. There’s something about living beside a great stretch of forest, both as participant and as witness, that is endlessly absorbing, at once enchanting and distressing. The former because there are vistas and qualities of light in the spaces of the everyday that are otherworldly, requiring an absolute halting of all activity and an undivided attention to just that light at that time. The latter because there is an incredible amount to learn to feel as though you have some small right to be here, holding fast on the patch of ground you stand on.

If we really want to know, who we are and recognize our identity, we have to find out the identity of the others. By making friends with the others, we are able to make friends with ourselves. At that moment, we can sense how everything falls into place. ( “ Steps in the unknown" )

If wisdom is a place, you should be the wisest one to live there..

A part of us always remains when we leave somewhere. It is a part we can never reclaim even if we revisit the place for it was never ours to begin with. There is so little of ourselves that belongs to us. This body is the earth’s. This heart is yours, and his and theirs. The only thing that is our own is our freedom of will— our freedom to choose our attitudes in life. All else is borrowed. All else is everyone else’s.

A place is not really a place without a bookstore.

A place to live is not a place to stay A place to stay is not a living place

A place without meaning is no place to be.

Arizona is a great place to be a radiation researcher.

As soon as a person gives place to the devil in his life, the devil has this person hooked

Auf diesem Platz hat schon mancher gedacht, hier wäre der Ort für ein tüchtiges Stück Leben und Freude, hier müßte etwas Lebendiges, Beglückendes wachsen können, hier müßten reife und gute Menschen ihre freudigen Gedanken denken und schöne und heitere Werke schaffen.