Quotes About Fulfillment

If you've found meaning in your life, you don't want to go back. You want to go forward. You want to see more, do more.

These were people so hungry for love that they were accepting substitutes. They were embracing material things and expecting a sort of hug back. But it never works. You can't substitute material things for love or for gentleness or for tenderness or for sense of comradeship. When you most need it, neither money nor power will give you the feeling you're looking for. You don't get satisfaction from those things.

Having more does not keep you from wanting more. And if you always want more—to be richer, more beautiful, more well known—you are missing the bigger picture, and I can tell you from experience, happiness will never come.

So, have we solved the secret of happiness? "I believe so," he said. Are you going to tell me? "Yes. Ready?" Ready. "Be satisfied." That's it? "Be grateful." That's it? "For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you." That's it? He looked me in the eye. Then he sighed deeply. "That's

What's the truth? Annie asked. That the end of loneliness is when someone needs you. The old woman smiled. And the world is so full of need.

Finish your journey and you will know.

My friedns, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm. And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.

My friends, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm. And when it's time, our good-byes will be complete.

So, have we solved the secret of happiness? "I believe so," he said. Are you going to tell me? "Yes. Ready?" Ready. "Be satisfied." That's it? "Be grateful." That's it? "For what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you." That's it? He looked me in the eye. Then he sighed deeply. "That's it.

But real commitment? That requires staying power—in faith and in marriage." And if you don't commit? I asked. "Your choice. But you miss what's on the other side." What's on the other side? "Ah." He smiled. "A happiness you cannot find alone.

Because of outdated ideas around retirement, we have put the money cart ahead of the "life" horse.

Is getting filthy rich still your goal above all goals, your be-all and end-all, the mist-shrouded high-altitude spawning pond to your inner salmon?

Ozi made me feel so known. He made love to my insides, filling desperate gaps and calming unbearably sensitive places.

Your teacher did not want to be a teacher. He wanted to be a meter reader at the electric utility. Meter readers do not have to put up with children, work comparatively little, and what is more important, have greater opportunity for corruption and are hence both better off and held in higher regard by society.

exceeded only by sex.

It has been said that depression is a failure to imagine a plausible desirable future for oneself.

Prologue: There are three wants which can never be satisfied: that of the rich wanting more, that of the sick, wanting something different, and that of the traveler, who says, anywhere but here. —Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sometimes, a stage curtain parts and you see: life could be better if you had more. Usually, I think, we can get just as good a different way. But tricks, they do not always work.

Her need for love is as wide as that sky out there and as impossible for an unwinged mortal to fulfill.

He calls for food. Who will feed me? I, who have fed so many, am hungry. Bring me food. Let there be food. Oysters on a silver salver. He drinks them from their shells. Sweet skewers of pork with a peanut glaze. He tears them with his teeth. Filo parcels of feta and spinach. He breaks them with his hands. His prayer is answered. The feast surrounds him.

There is no such thing as wasted writing.

But even talented people, sooner or later, cracked their heads against their own personal ceilings.

We need but little learning to live happily.

It is an absolute perfection and virtually divine to know how to enjoy our being rightfully. We seek other conditions because we do not understand the use of our own … Yet there is no use our mounting on stilts, for on stilts we must still walk on our own legs. And on the loftiest throne in the world we are still sitting only on our own rump