Quotes About Heart

Bu dünyada gönlüne kar?? gelen babayi?it ç?kmam??.

He comes, so I must go. But be bold. He is your husband, no? The worst he can do is wound your pride," she pointed to Eleanor's chest. " he cannot hurt your heart unless you let him

Love? Is that what they call this detestable physical state? The cold sweats, the pounding heart, the absolutely choking fear that I might have to live without her?...Then it's a damned nuisance, and I was right to be against it all this time. Good God, I don't think I could go through this more than once in a lifetime

You are a woman born of secrets and sadness. It will either destroy your future or lead you to greatness. A handsome gentleman with eyes like the sky and hair like a raven's wing will come into your life. If you let him, he will become the hand of your vengeance. If you let him,he will shatter your heart.

Are you in love with Rathmoor, then?" "Yes." The answer came without her even thinking about it. Because she was. She probably always had been. She'd told Dom that he'd killed her love for him, but the truth was, it was unkillable. Though she'd thought to root him out of her heart, he'd merely lain dormant in the wintry ground, waiting until spring when he could grow over her heart like the pernicious honeysuckle in Uncle's arbor.

When somebody said something similar two thousand years ago it worked for him—because of the fire in his heart, because of the truth that was burning within him, not because of the words he uttered.

With racism plaguing America like an incurable cancer, the so-called 'Christian' white American heart should be more receptive to a proven solution to such a destructive problem.

If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.

Recognizing happiness when it's lying at your feet, having the will and courage to reach down and take it in your arms--and to hold on to it--that's the heart's intelligence. Intelligence minus the heart is just logic, and that doesn't amount to much. - Arthur

Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.

As a faithful Jew, he would have recited the Shema upon rising and retiring each day, the heart of which affirmed: "Hear, O Israel: The LORD is our God, the LORD alone. You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might

They are soon gone, and we fly away. . . . So teach us to count our days / that we may gain a wise heart" (90.12).

In this life, a radical centering in God leads to a deepening trust that transforms the way we see and live our lives. Seeing, living, trusting, and centering are all related in complex ways. They are all matters of the heart, and not primarily of the head. And in our deaths, dying means trusting in the buoyancy of God, that the one who has carried us in this life is the one into whom we die.

Make no mistake, the woman (Rosa) had a heart. She had a bigger one than people would think. There was a lot in it, stored up, high in miles of hidden shelving.

Novel-writing is not so much a profession as a yoga, or way, an alternative to ordinary life-in-the-world. Its benefits are quasi-religious—a changed quality of mind and heart, satisfactions no non-novelist can understand—and its rigors generally bring no profit except to the spirit. For those who are authentically called to the profession, spiritual profits are enough.--John Gardner

Because he thinks he is a thief! Jethro cried. He thinks he stole what he is. He's fighting his own shadow and his own heart.

I want, I don't want. How can one live with such a heart?

The heart of Jesus glowed, because it was holy. Holy things glowed in general.

For the heart was both key and lock, and he who could master the hearts of men and learn their secrets was well on the way to mastering the Fates and controlling the thread of his own destiny.

Me, it's the heart: that's the part lacking. I used to want one: a dainty cushion of red silk dangling from a blood ribbon, fit for sticking pins in. But I've changed my mind. Hearts hurt. — Margaret Atwood, from "The Tin Woodwoman Gets a Massage ," Dearly: New Poems (Ecco, 2020)

I had a boyfriend once who sent me--in a plastic bag, so it wouldn't drip--a real cow's heart with a real arrow stuck through it. As you may divine, he knew I was interested in poetry.

Every month there is a moon, gigantic, round, heavy, an omen. IT transits, pauses, continues on and passes out of sight, and I see despair coming towards me like famine. To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.

February, month of despair, with a skewered heart in the centre.

To feel that empty, again, again. I listen to my heart, wave upon wave, salty and red, continuing on and on, marking time.