Best 132 quotes in «searching quotes» category

Rejections will redirect you to more exciting roads. When you think your life is falling apart, it’s usually falling together in disguise. Your search will throw you on journeys you never would have dreamt of, in your mind and in the world.

Searching for the best solution is by far the best excuse for inaction.

The Ache That Would Not Leave Behind the hum and routine of daily living, there lay a persistent and wild longing for something she could not easily put into words. It felt like impulsive adventures and watching the sun rise over unfamiliar mountains, or coffee in a street café, set to the background music of a foreign language. It was the smell of the ocean, with dizzying seagulls whirling in a cobalt sky; exotic foods and strange faces, in a city where no one knew her name. She wanted secrets whispered at midnight, and road trips without a map, but most of all, she ached for someone who desired to explore the mysteries that lay sleeping within her. The truly heartbreaking part was that she could feel the remaining days of her life falling away, like leaves from an autumn tree, but still this mysterious person who held the key to unlock her secrets did not arrive; they were missing, and she knew not where to find them.

She would search for him. In the land that lay east of the sun and west of the moon. But there was no way there.

Some, often without knowing it, suffered from being deprived of the company of friends and from their inability to get in touch with them through the usual channels of friendship, letters, trains, and boats. Others, fewer these, Tarrou may have been one of them, had desired reunion with something they couldn't have defined, but which seemed to them the only desirable thing on earth. For want of a better name, they sometimes called it peace.

Stop entertaining two faced people. You know the ones who have split personalities and untrustworthy habits. Nine times out of ten if they telling you stuff about another person, they're going to tell your business to other people. If they say, "You know I heard........." More than likely it's in their character to share false information. Beware of your box, circle, square! Whatever you want to call it.

She walked among the stars, The princess of the heavens, Looking for the one who caught her crystal tears That spilled out from liquid ice blue eyes- Rolling down pale cheeks- Then sealed up tenderly... In pearl alabaster jars...

She was unlike the women one normally encounters sitting on a chair in the terrace. She had a lost look in her eyes. She had a faraway gaze. It seemed as if she was searching for something in life!

Sometimes the best way to find your road is to get lost. Sometimes the only way to find a way is to get lost.

Somewhere in this world there exists an exceptional philosopher named Florie Rotondo. The other day I came across one of her ruminations printed in a magazine devoted to the writings of schoolchildren. It said: “If I could do anything, I would go to the middle of our planet, Earth, and seek uranium, rubies, and gold. I'd look for Unspoiled Monsters. Then I'd move to the country. --Florie Rotondo, age 8.” Florie, honey, I know just what you mean – even if you don’t: how could you, age eight?

The healing is my working out my salvation. The need constant because my desire for seperateness constantly wrestles with my need for oneness with Jesus. The search for Jesus is bigger, deeper and agonizing.

The centre of me is always and eternally in terrible pain ... A searching for something beyond what the world contains, something transfiguring and infinite.

The creatures I seek do not want to be seen.

The darkest hours bring the most light.

The ocean flows of online information are all streaming together, and the access tools are becoming absolutely critical. If you don’t index it, it doesn’t exist. It’s out there but you can’t find it, so it might as well not be there.

The lady set off, in search of summers long past, always just around the next corner. On a basic level, maybe all of us on the path were the same; perhaps we were all looking for something. Looking back, looking forward or just looking for something that was missing. Drawn to the edge, a strip of wilderness where we could be free to let the answers come, or not, to find a way of accepting life, our life, whatever that was. Were we searching this narrow margin between the land and the sea for another way of being, becoming edgelanders along the way. Stuck between one world and the next. Walking a thin line between tame and wild, lost and found, life and death. At the edge of existence.

The letters, the fading. The labyrinth, the cake. The four hundred brackish lakes of the brain. She searches for the music, but she can't find it. Oh, God, it was here only the other day.

There would be no more offerings. Not this day. Not any day. Humankind had suffered enough for its love of gods, its long search for God. He thought of the many centuries in which his people, the Jews, had negotiated with God, complaining, bickering, decrying the unfairness of things but always - always - returning to obedience at whatever the cost. Generations dying in the ovens of hatred. Future generations scarred by the cold fires of radiation and renewed hatred.

There is a certain kind of man who is forever searching. He wanders from place to place, he looks hard into the eyes of women and men in every town, maybe he scratches the earth or wields a gun, remedies illnesses or writes books, and there is always a vague emptiness within him. It is the emptiness that drives him and he does not know even how to name that thing that might fill it. No idea of home or love or peace comes to him. He does not know, so he cannot stop. On and on he moves. and the emptiness blinds him and pulls at him and he is like a newborn baby searching for the teat, knowing it is there, but where? And sometimes such a man is handed a gift. A gift of direction. A path that is marked for him and there, yes, this will ease your suffering, it is sure. This will cure you, it will fill you up, at least for a time. There will be a home, and love, there will no longer be the sorrow when you look at a cold night sky, the sorrow as the sun rises and the mist burns away.

There would be times in the years to come when he ( Murphy ) would accompany me back and forth between the two worlds I'd come to know. Other times, Yipes would venture out over the water, and even Matilda came along once. There were loads of clothes and seeds and jars of honey and other such things cramping our space, and children of every age moving between the pillars and The Land of Elyon. And always, always, there was Marco at the pedals, helping guide the way across the Lonely Sea. I have yet to venture off the course that was set for me by Sir Alistair Wakefield, but I see certain things on the old maps that make me curious. Are there other places to explore, somewhere in the immeasurable reaches of the Lonely Sea? Maybe my own children or their children will find these strange spots on the map. My way is set an in stone, and I don't feel the need to veer off any longer. It has taken many days of searching and fighting, but in the end I have found what I was looking for. I have found my way home.

The same numbness and disappointment every day sends some people looking for something tragic for proof of life.

The shadow is dark and the woods are cold, but they are not endless. No matter how lost you are now, you are not lost forever. You are findable. Love just keeps on looking. Love is forever tries.

The search for Jesus is about reconciling loss and tragedy to God and us.

The tips of my overgrown bangs dip into the wet of my tears. My fingers, forehead, moisten with sweat. I fight the slipperiness, press the valves firmly, play the love, the hate, the misery, the hope, the freedom that I wanted, never wanted, can't have; that doesn't exist.

Through the many years of what I thought was 'searching', was really the process of 'awakening'.

The world is held together by lies. When I paint, I'm searching for the truth between them, but I'm no better at this than anyone else. Worse, probably.

Those who seek eternity find a mind of infinity

Two people departed...in search of love...leaving love in between

To respect a mystery is to make way for the answer.

Want is always hungry and searching whereas contentment is steady, calm and receiving.

We keep searching for things all our life, yet seldom do we notice them!

We are all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours.

We are but pitiful narrative creatures... obsessing over the agony of not knowing. Sisyphus, Atlas, Echo, all those poor souls, now us. It is the oldest story of them all; never-ending pain.

What am I searching for? Maybe its the beliefs I had as a child, that the world is a nice place, that people are genuinely who they say they are, that life is not simply what it is, where the sun shines and the stars glitter for me. Where am I going? I do not know but maybe I am just searching for those beliefs that lead to a happy ending...

We wonder through our lives not sure of what we’re searching for. What is my calling we might speak to ourselves again and again? It’s a redundant question, we might even shout out load, with no return response. The answer to our question is peacefulness. Once we find as much as possible, we can begin to enjoy simple pleasures, and passion without interruption. Nothing will fall in line without a soft place to land.

What we are looking for is who is looking

When the ideas or forms we need are banished, we seek their residues wherever we can trace them

Where is it?" I asked, willing him to tell me. He laughed suddenly, and I could hear the full-throated, grating sound of the white bear's laughter in it. "East of the sun and west of the moon," he said.

When you don't know what you're searching for, you have to look absolutely everywhere.

(...) Where are you trying to go?” Harry hesitated. “I’m not really sure,” he said. “Then perhaps you are already there.

Why do you so earnestly seek the truth in distant places? Look for delusion and truth in the bottom of your own heart.

Why after two years at that university, he left to study sociology in Birmingham, no one knew clearly. He suddenly, as he said, 'couldn't stand Cambridge'. He wanted to get closer to something — perhaps life. But life continued to reject him.

Will it be here that we shall find a place which will not elude us, or which if it remains does not exert on us a culpable attraction? Or must we, leaning over the deck and watching the shores glide by, move forever onward?

Wonders amaze me. They can aim wanderlessly in any forest, be it of dark trees or lighted bushes. And apparently, as per what I’ve heard, they can buy stuff that’s on sale, but only if and when they feel wonderfully wonderful. Because otherwise they wouldn’t really be themselves, which would be a problem for them, because if they aren’t what they are - they can’t exist, and if they don’t exist – that makes them invisible and silent to all the wandering people, who may or may not be looking for them to sell themselves to.

You discover nothing; you only learn of what you have been ignorant of so far.

You will never experience the true self by using the mind in an attempt to find it.

You're not lost, so long as you know your way back home.

You want help? Ask for help. You want love? Ask for love. If you want anything from the universe, anything from yourself, you must first ask.

You feel as if your Earthwalk is a mission of some sorts, but you can’t quite remember what that mission is, and whatever it is you don’t seem to be accomplishing it. In other words, you’re a little bit disheartened. And maybe a little touched.

A good teacher is one, that never stops listening; a good listener is one, that never stops teaching.