Quotes About Life

Sometimes life goes in a direction not of our choosing," said the minister, softly. "That's why we need to adapt. It's never too late to change direction.

What's the use of healing, if the life that's saved is callow and selfish and ruled by fear? There's a difference between being in sanctuary and being in hiding.

What I was going to say is that my mentor had this theory that our lives are like an aboriginal longhouse. Just one huge room." He swept one arm out to illustrate scope. "He said that if we thought we could compartmentalize things, we were deluding ourselves. Everyone we meet, every word we speak, every action taken or not taken lives in our longhouse. With us. Always. Never to be expelled or locked away.

I saw a lot of men die there. Most men. Do you know what killed them?"…"Despair," said Finney. "They believed themselves to be prisoners. I lived with those men, ate the same maggot-infested food, slept in the same beds, did the same back-breaking work. But they died and I lived. Do you know why?" "You were free." "I was free. Milton was right…the mind is its own place. I was never a prisoner. Not then, not now.

And Beauvoir knew then the man was a saint. He's been touched by any number of medical men and women. All healers, all well intentioned, some kind, some rough. All made it clear they wanted him to live, but none had made him feel that his life was precious, was worth saving, was worth something.

It was a careworn face. But most of the lines, if followed back like a trail, would lead to happiness. To the faces a face made when laughing or smiling, or sitting quietly enjoying the day. Though some of those lines led elsewhere. Into a wilderness, into the wild. Where terrible things had happened. Some of the lines of his face led to events inhuman and abominable. To horrific sights. To unspeakable acts. Some of them his. The lines of his face were the longitude and latitude of his life.

Sometimes life goes in a direction not of our choosing. That's why we need to adapt. It's never too late o change direction… [Gamache] knew the young minister was wrong, sometimes it was too late.

We don't just sing; we are the song.

We can all fall," said the abbot. "But perhaps not as hard and not as fast and not as far as someone who spends his life on the ascent.

She painted what appeared to be portraits, but that was only on the surface. The beautifully rendered flesh stretched, and sometimes sagged, over wounds, over celebrations. Over chasms of loss and rushes of joy. She painted peace and despair. All in one portrait. With brush and canvas and oils, Clara both captured and freed her subject.

Life is choice. All day, everyday. Who we talk to, where we sit, what we say, how we say it. And our lives become defined by our choices. It's as simple and as complex as that. And as powerful.

Marcus Aurelius. The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Their lives could not be defined by their deaths. They belonged not in perpetual pain but in the beauty of their short lives.

I know how precious life is. You had no right to take Renaud's and you have no right to take your own now. Not over this. Too much death. It needs to stop.

Anyone so damaged as to cause this much harm led a life full of secrets and full of enemies.

And this was what a couple of that age looked like. If they were lucky.

This village has known loss, people killed before their time, accidents, war, disease. Three Pines isn't immune to any of that. But you seem to accept it as part of life and not hang on to the bitterness.

Armand knew the terror of that first step. He also knew that the key to a full life was taking it. The trick wasn't necessarily having less fear, it was finding more courage.

Now there will be no more loneliness," said the minister, as he gave his final blessing on the couple. Go now to your dwelling place to enter into the days of your togetherness. And may your days be good and long upon the earth.

Go now to your dwelling place to enter into the days of your togetherness. And may your days be good and long upon the earth.

life is loss,' said Myrna after a moment. 'Loss of parents, loss of loves, loss of jobs. So we have to find a higher meaning in our lives than these things and people. Otherwise we'll lose ourselves.

Have you noticed that more people seem to be dying than are being born? Bean asked, handing the section to Finney, who took it and nodded solemnly. "That means there's more for those of us still here." He handed the section back. "I don't want more," said Bean. "You will.

We love life, thought Reine-Marie as she watched Ruth and Rosa sitting side by side, not because we are used to living, but because we are used to loving. Nietzsche. How Armand would kid her if he knew she was quoting Nietzsche, even to herself.

Photos sat on the piano and shelves bulged with books, testament to a life well lived.