Quotes About Life

We are meant to be a living hallelujah.

The Bible definitely does not teach that those who follow God will have a life of bliss. It describes the dogged faith of those who continue to trust in God despite their suffering, and the comfort, strength, and hope they find in the face of suffering.

God's call on our lives is often surprising and usually is based on God's ability to see how our various elements in the past might fit together to accomplish God's purposes in the present.

Suffering can either destroy us, or it can add meaning to our life.

We share the gospel with others because we believe the gospel is not just about heaven, but about having life even here on earth.

we follow Jesus because we believe that his life, death, resurrection, and teachings offer us the truth about life, strength for the journey, and hope in the face of despair. Following him doesn't change our life situation, but it does change how we look at it and how we live in it.

follow Jesus, not because I think he's going to make me rich or keep bad things from happening to me. I follow him because I believe that in his life he shows me who God is. In his teachings he shows me how to live. In his death he shows me mercy. And in his resurrection he shows me hope. That's why I follow him.

What if God, in giving us life, invites us to collaborate in writing the story of our lives?

In the end we make a choice to believe. That's how the Creed begins, 'credo' in Latin: I choose to believe these truths; I choose to build my life upon this foundation; I have decided that if I must take a leap of faith, I'll take this leap of faith rather than the other.

That's what Proust calls it. On those rare occasions when the miracle of an analogy had made me escape from the present. That's the only real life, the only thing that makes you know you're alive - the backward ache. That's what music is.

We live among the dead until we join them,

What I have always found most comforting about these forms is the trace of hope I get as I'm filling them out. How they break your life down into such tidy realms, making each seem tractable, because discrete, in a way they never are beyond the white noise of the waiting room. You get that fleeting sense that you're on the verge of being understood, truly and fully, and for the first time, if you could just get it all down in black and white before the receptionist calls your name.

It was one of those youthful promises that you make to yourself and keep long after you stop recognizing what you are doing, or how it is distorting your life.

That's the only real life, the only thing that makes you know you're alive - the backward ache. That's what music is. The trouble - for me - is that at some stage I realized those miracles, those aches, they have a history. They're not private. The music's always about what someone's lost. That's what you hear, when it's good: the worlds people lost, the ones they want back. And once you hear it that way, you can't avoid it - that it's somehow about justice.

Du und alle Erben des Wohlstands, die glauben, das Leben sei eine Frage perfektionierter Gefühle. Ihr irrt euch.

I had never understood before the invisibility of a human. How what we take to be a person is in fact a spirit we can never see. Not until I sat in that room, with the dead vehicle that had carried my brother through his life, and for which I had always mistaken him.

How narrowly we all avoid having never been.

I guess the lesson is, wherever you go, life follows you there, hunts you down, and abducts you (just kidding).

the motion of our blood could almost stop, our bodies be laid to sleep, but somehow the soul be kept alive. Simply by the things we saw and heard, in any given moment

He closed his eyes and listened to her demand. There was something pure and beautiful about it. If only more people in life said, This is what I must have.

If everyone who had it shitty and bit the dust became a fart," he said, "the world would stink to the treetops, you know what I mean?

And you could always tell ginger plants whose tap root had penetrated a corpse: the blooms were large, iridescent yellow, and it was hard to jerk loose a plant whose roots had hooked a rib below.

He held his grip on her arm. "What if something goes wrong? Have you thought of that? What if today is all there is?" "Today, tomorrow," she said. "A day is nothing. A day is just a match you strike after the ten

He held his grip on her arm. "What if something goes wrong? Have you thought of that? What if today is all there is?" "Today, tomorrow," she said. "A day is nothing. A day is just a match you strike after the ten thousand matches before it have gone out.