Quotes About Heart

I reminded myself that the heart is deceitful above all things.

After a thoughtful silence, she said, "If a man is a beast, he's a beast in his heart, and that's not the kind of heart that beats in you.

Their melancholy drains me. Their need exhausts me. I am wrung by pity. Sometimes it seems that to exit this world, they must go through my heart, leaving it scarred and sore.

By the time Bibi reached her bedroom, she understood as never before that home wasn't a place but rather a place in the heart. In this troubled world, everything was transient except what we could carry with us in our minds and hearts. Every home ceased to be a home sooner or later, but not with its demolition. It survived destruction as long as just one person who had loved it still lived. Home was the story of what happened there, not the story of where it happened.

what is right is not always clean, and does not always feel good. In even a clear heart, some righteous acts of the harder kind can stir up a sediment of guilt, but that is not a bad thing. If allowed to be, the heart is self-policing, and a reasonable measure of guilt guards against corruption.

In even a clear heart, some righteous acts of the harder kind can stir up a sediment of guilt, but that is not a bad thing. If allowed to be, the heart is self-policing, and a reasonable measure of guilt guards against corruption.

Although the constant shadow of certain death looms over every day, the pleasures and joys of life can be so fine and deeply affecting that the heart is nearly stilled by astonishment. From Vegas, they hauled the Airstream north on

Life offers infinite possible roads. Sometimes your head chooses the route, sometimes your heart. And sometimes, for better or worse, neither head nor heart can resist the stubborn pull of fate.

Only now does he realize that the worst of all miseries to afflict the human heart is loneliness.

I get the phlegm of fear in my throat again, thicker than before, and I have to keep swallowing hard to be able to breathe right. Don't ask about my heart. It's just thudding like some pneumatic hammer.

He was mad with hope. In reasonable measure, hope sustains us. In great excess, it distorts perceptions, dulls the mind, corrupts the heart to no less an extent than does heroin.

Even though she knew it wasn't biologically possible for her heart to rise into her throat, she swallowed it anyway.

If we're guided only or even largely by emotion . . . Well, the heart often wants what it doesn't really need, and sometimes it wants what it shouldn't have, something with the potential to ruin your life. It wants something so intensely that we find it easy to do what the heart wants even if we know it's reckless.

Her signature style is hyperrealism, an attempt to capture everything a photograph might and then much more: what the mind knows about a scene that the scene itself does not reveal; what the heart feels about the subject before it; how the past lives in the present and how the future looms real but unrevealed; what any moment on the Earth might mean, if it means anything at all.

Anyway, the human heart being what it was, those who erased the past would in fact purge only the wisdom and preserve the evils.

But the heart is deceitful above all things.

Men are often made stupid by love.

Love was not an act of reason, but a leap of faith, a belief that some mysterious meaning must lie behind existence and that two particular lives were fated to be one; love was an expression of trust in the truth of the heart's yearning and the mind's keen intuition. In the absence of love, the heart might be deceitful above all things, but profound love was an antivenin that cured deceit.

Grief thrived in a quiet heart, and right now hers thundered with terror and revulsion

However, madness is a different thing from sociopathy, and the potential lies in every heart.

Yet each time that they are given but one reason to doubt, a worm in the apple of the heart makes them turn away from a thousand proofs of the miraculous, whereupon they have a drunkard's thirst for cynicism, and they feed upon despair as a starving man upon a loaf of bread.

His heart knocked as if on Heaven's door.

the heart is deceitful above all things.

THAT WE SHOULD MEET IN THE WHIRL OF LIFE THAT spins more people apart than together, that we should find in each other so much that was compatible, that we should lift each other out of doubt and out of weakness into conviction and strength, that we should fall in love in spite of being unable to consummate it physically, a love that was of mind for mind, heart for heart, soul for soul: This rare gift was priceless.