Quotes About Gratitude

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.

Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?

It must be a great disappointment to God if we are not dazzled at least ten times a day.

Listen, whatever you see and love— that's where you are.

In Our Woods, Sometimes a Rare Music Every spring I hear the thrush singing in the glowing woods he is only passing through. His voice is deep, then he lifts it until it seems to fall from the sky. I am thrilled. I am grateful. Then, by the end of morning, he's gone, nothing but silence out of the tree where he rested for a night. And this I find acceptable. Not enough is a poor life. But too much is, well, too much. Imagine Verdi or Mahler every day, all day. It would exhaust anyone.

Sunrise What is the name of the deep breath I would take over and over for all of us? Call it whatever you want, it is happiness, it is another one of the ways to enter fire.

Every morning I walk like this around the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead.

Always there is something worth saying about glory, about gratitude.

I have a little dog who likes to nap with me. He climbs on my body and puts his face in my neck. He is sweeter than soap. He is more wonderful than a diamond necklace, which can't even bark...

What does it mean, say the words, that the earth is so beautiful? And what shall I do about it? What is the gift that I should bring to the world? What is the life that I should live?

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.

When it's over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement.

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. It was what I was born for– to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world (from, 'Mindful')

Have I lived enough? Have I loved enough? Have I considered Right Action enough, have I come to any conclusion? Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude? Have I endured loneliness with grace? - A Thousand Mornings, Mary Oliver

At Blackwater Pond At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whispering oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing. And gave it up. And took my old body and went out into the morning, and sang.

What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? Would would this would be like without dogs?

how could there be a day in your whole life that doesn't have its splash of happiness?

That's the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. "Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?

Let me keep company always with those who say "Look!" and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.

Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell others.

Instructions for living a life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

Joy is not made to be a crumb. (Don't Hesitate)

I don't want you just to sit down at the table. I don't want you just to eat, and be content. I want you to walk out into the fields where the water is shining, and the rice has risen. I want you to stand there, far from the white tablecloth. I want you to fill your hands with the mud, like a blessing.