Quotes About Heart

The citadel of Jones was now taken by surprise. All those considerations of honour and prudence which our heroe had lately with so much military wisdom placed as guards over the avenues of his heart, ran away from their posts, and the god of love marched in, in triumph.

Now that part of his head which nature designed for the reservoir of drink being very shallow, a small quantity of liquor overflowed it and opened the sluices of his heart, so that all the secrets there deposited run out.

I had now regained my liberty, said the stranger; but I had lost my reputation; for there is a wide difference between the case of a man who is barely acquitted of a crime in a court of justice, and of him who is acquitted in his own heart, and in the opinion of the people.

It hath been observed, by wise men or women, I forget which, that all persons are doomed to be in love once in their lives.

She carried within herself a great fund of life, and her deepest enjoyment was to feel the continuity between the movement of her own heart and the agitations of the world. For this reason, she was fond of seeing great crowds, and large stretches of country, of reading about revolutions and wars, of looking at historical pictures--a class of efforts to which she had often gone so far as to forgive much bad painting for the sake of the subject.

Love has nothing to do with good reasons.

There was a dumb misery about him that irritated her; there was a manly staying of his hand that made her heart beat faster. She felt her agitation rising, and she said to herself that she was angry in the way a woman is angry when she has been in the wrong.

The sense of success -the most agreeable emotion of the human heart

He said at another time that she had no heart; and he added in a moment that she had given it all away—in small pieces, like a frosted wedding-cake.

some sunny empty grass-grown court lost in the heart of the labyrinthine pile.

A narrow grave-yard in the heart of a bustling, indifferent city, seen from the windows of a gloomy-looking inn, is at no time an object of enlivening suggestion; and the spectacle is not at its best when the mouldy tombstones and funereal umbrage have received the ineffectual refreshment of a dull, moist snow-fall.

With the new technology that keeps entering the media, film composers are constantly being placed in new learning situations. Acknowledging this and realizing that one must keep up, I maintain, nonetheless, that the real creative power is in the mind and heart of the composer.

It is with the soul that we grasp the essence of another human being, not with the mind, nor even with the heart.

There's something perverse about women...they're all masochists at heart.

It is with the soul that we grasp the essence of another person, not with the mind, not even with the heart.

Every time I pass the concierge's window and catch the full icy impact of her glance I have an insane desire to throttle all the birds in creation. At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love – just enough to feed the birds.

And while it's all very nice to know that a woman has a mind, literature coming from the cold corpse of a whore is the last thing to be served in bed. Germaine had the right idea: she was ignorant and lusty, she put her heart and soul into her work. She was a whore all the way through—and that was her virtue!

I know what the great cure is: to give up, to relinquish, to surrender, so that our little hearts may beat in unison with the great heart of the world.

Ai simÈ›ire,numai c? e greÈ™it orientat?.Inima ta funcÈ›ioneaz? spasmodic.EÈ™ti recunosc?tor celor ce îÈ›i fac inima s? sangereze;nu suferi din cauza lor,suferi ca s? poÈ›i gusta luxul de a suferi.?i înc? nici n-ai început s? suferi;suferi prin suferinÈ›a altora.

The Earth is a paradise, the only one we will ever know. We will realize it the moment we open our eyes. We don't have to make it a paradise - it is one. We have only to make ourselves fit to inhabit it. The man with the gun, the man with murder in his heart, cannot possibly recognize paradise even when he is shown it.

At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love—just enough to feed the birds.

Oh, well, these are night thoughts produced by walking in the rain after two thousand years of Christianity. At least now the birds are well provided for, and the cats and dogs. Every time I pass the concierge's window and catch the full icy impact of her glance I have an insane desire to throttle all the birds in creation. At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love—just enough to feed the birds.

If any man ever dared to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, I think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever again assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.

I sat and talked with Alexandros in the deaf and dumb language of the heart. In a few minutes, I would have to go. I was not unhappy about it; there are experiences so wonderful, so unique, that the thought of prolonging them seems like the basest form of ingratitude. If I were not to go now then I should stay forever, turn my back on the world, renounce everything