Quotes About Heart

Vibes are energetic waves of subtle energy that arise from several places, some from inside your body and some from the world around you. All this makes up your vibes. Intuitive messages come from your heart and gut. Others come through the back of your head, on your arms, the back of your neck, even in your throat. These waves of energy reverberate throughout your entire physical being, sending you messages.

Negativity is often born out of misunderstandings that can be turned around easily if you approach someone with a loving and open heart.

The simple act of distancing yourself from negativity breaks the connection, clears the air, gets you grounded, and helps you drop your defenses. It opens your heart and leads you to a higher perspective. This is especially true when you find yourself in a heated argument. Leaving is best done with grace, sensitivity, and discretion. If you can quietly leave a toxic situation, get out as fast as you can.

The best way to avoid low-level telepathy is to turn off that channel by focusing on what and who you love. Doing this shifts your focus to your spirit and automatically tunes you in to your higher telepathic channel, the heart. The telepathy of the heart does not broadcast spirit-to-spirit. It is a much higher frequency, one where we connect with one another from our highest, most authentic, Divine selves.

The best way to maintain an extraordinary life is to make every thought and word you use or listen to as loving and nurturing as possible. Make it a personal value to speak truthfully, using the best words, speaking honestly from the heart and with respect for yourself and others.

Leaving the ego-driven space of your head and moving into the spirit-driven space of your heart is a significant shift and initially takes some getting used to. However, it won't be long before you have evidence that this is the best way to go. Once you decide to turn the light back on in your heart, it's simply a matter of finding the switch. The wiring is all in place. The light still works and always has.

The lily and the poem made it all real for me; now I knew my memories would stay with me forever. I held the lily and the poem to my heart, and concluded that my life was not a series of sand castles. There was meaning to life, and precious memories even amidst the sadness.

His hand glides down my arm, folds over my hand. His fingers lace with mine, palms kissing. I can feel the fast thud of his heart through this single touch.

I'll have to admit, he really does have quite a smile. Kind of heart-stopping, especially as it comes out of nowhere. I mean... you know. If your heart was in the kind of place to be stopped.

Some of us have hearts, you know. Some of us don't give up on true love.

I had a choice: Follow my heart or don't break his. I think in the end I broke a bit of both our hearts.

I honestly feel as though I've run an obstacle course to get here. In fact, I think, they should list shopping as a cardiovascular activity. My heart never beats as fast as it does when I see a "reduced by 50 percent" sign.

Look into your heart- and go after what you really want.

We need to love our hearts

She somehow understands that I have to know how Seb is, because I feel this strange, inextricable link to him. Which isn't a relationship-- God, of course not. We're not even friends, really. It's just... it's a different kind of thing. A yearning. A tugging in my heart. A need to be with him and know that he's OK. I mean, what would you call that?

Follow my heart or don't break his. I think in the end I broke a bit of both our hearts

ELECTRA: Oh but my love—now that you have travelled back down all those years to meet my heart, over all this grief of mine, do not oh love— ORESTES: What are you asking? ELECTRA: Do not turn your face from me. Don't take yourself away.

Man's worst ill is stubbornness of heart.

Mad are thy subjects all, and even the wisest heart Straight to folly will fall, at a touch of thy poisoned dart.

Of happiness the chiefest part IS a wise heart

But the heart inside me sickens, dies as the land dies and now on top of the old griefs you pile this, your fury—both of you!

What love, what call of the heart can touch my ears with joy? Nothing, friends.

A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret suffrings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music. People corwd around the poet and say to him: Sing for us soon again; that is as much to say, May new sufferings torment your soul.

What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music.