Quotes About Heart

It is night, And it is vanity, and age Blackens the heart of Adam. Fear, The yellow chirper, beaks its cage.

While we've youth in our hearts, we can never grow old.

Having three daughters, it is important for me to set a good example and teach them to make decisions that are healthy for your heart no matter what age you are.

Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit, There is no cure 'gainst age but it

Your inside person doesn't age. Your inside person is soul, is heart, in the eternal now, the ageless, the old, the young, all the ages you've ever been.

Seventeen's not a good age. That's when you realize that you have a heart. That's when feelings get in the way of thinking.

What have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment's surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed.

My heart is a thousand years old. I am not like other people.

Have a care lest the wrinkles in the face extend to the heart.

Memory, wit, fancy, acuteness, cannot grow young again in old age, but the heart can.

Not in vain is Ireland pouring itself all over the earth. The Irish, with their glowing hearts and reverent credulity, are needed in this cold age of intellect and skepticism.

To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent - that is to triumph over old age.

Looks aren't all there is in the world, my lady. They are certainly no protection against being alone. Hearts never see through the eyes. (Sebastian)

Better let it all alone in the depths of her heart and the depths of the sea.

An inspiration - a long, deep breath of the pure air of thought - could alone give health to the heart.

Hatred is an affair of the heart; contempt that of the head.

Anger, lust and such other evil passions raging in the heart are the real untouchables.

Anger is the noise of the soul; the unseen irritant of the heart; the relentless invader of silence.

Heat and animosity, contest and conflict, may sharpen the wits, although they rarely do; they never strengthen the understanding, clear the perspicacity, guide the judgment, or improve the heart.

Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirreth, but that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil.

She mourns for the future, as the past has taught her. And yet there is a rejoicing in her, persistent and unbidden as the beating of her heart.

The English philosopher and geometer, Keith Critchlow, brings his own light to the same point: "The human mind takes apart with its analytic habits of reasoning but the human heart puts things together because it loves them . . ."18

Protest that endures, I think, is moved by a hope far more modest than that of public success: namely, the hope of preserving qualities in one's own heart and spirit that would be destroyed by acquiescence.

It took me a long time to see what was happening to me then. I have known no sudden revelations. No stroke of light has ever knocked me blind to the ground. But I know now that even then, in my hopelessness and sorrow, I began a motion of the heart toward my origins. Far from rising above them, I was longing to sink into them until I would know the fundamental things. I needed to know the original first chapter of the world.