Quotes About Appreciation

We can sometimes love what we do not understand, but it is impossible completely to understand what we do not love.

It was the blue-hour, the era of endarkenment. In the air, however, was the delicious smell of life. Possibly real, possibly delusional, came the fragrance of newly cut grass, of freshly turned damp earth, of honeysuckle at the end of summertime - things that might make a person happy, especially unexpectedly happy, and which cost little, bar the willingness, and the gratefulness, to open up and breathe.

You're considerate and funny and you're a lover out of my dreams. Should I develop a taste for luxuries- which I may well do after this week- you're so plump in the pocket, you wouldn't notice if I started buying gold-plated underthings." His smile was uncertain, nonetheless it was a smile. Her churning misery eased a fraction. "I'd notice anything you did with your undergarments, amore mio.

Do not save your loving speeches for your friends till they are dead; Do not write them on their tombstones; speak them rather now instead.

La vida me había enseñado que era mejor no pedirle demasiado. Lo que acabábamos de vivir era como un regalo. Y ya está, ya lo habíamos abierto.

But friends, those I wanted to please? There are so few, so few... and you're one of them. You... because you have such a gift for life. You grab hold of it with both hands. You move, you dance, you know how to make the rain and the sunshine in a home. You have this incredible gift for making people around you happy. You're so at ease, so at ease on this little planet...

After all, nobody else ever made a sketch of the dishes in your sink. That you probably can't think of a similar image is also helpful.

Life lines are entangled: candy cane and matsutake; matsutake and its host trees; host trees and herbs, mosses, insects, soil bacteria, and forest animals; heaving bumps and mushroom pickers. Matsutake pickers are alert to life lines in the forest; searching with all the senses creates this alertness. It is a form of forest knowledge and appreciation without the completeness of classification. Instead, searching brings us to the liveliness of beings experienced as subjects rather than objects.

People who don't get excited about receiving gifts are tired of life.

those of us who read because we love it more than anything, who feel about bookstores the way some people feel about jewelers...

Life is made up of moments, small pieces of glittering mica in a long stretch of gray cement. It would be wonderful if they came to us unsummoned, but particularly in lives as busy as the ones most of us lead now, that won't happen. We have to teach ourselves how to make room for them, to love them, and to live, really live.

I wondered why I hadn't loved that day more, why I hadn't savored every bit of it...why I hadn't known how good it was to live so normally, so everyday. But you only know that, I suppose, after it's not normal and every day any longer.

When I was still a living man in the life that I lived, I met a young fellow. His name was George. I latched on to him. We shared our pain and joy. He was much younger than I was. I valued everything about young George. In that young man I found again everything I prized in life. Now he has as little to do with me as a living man does with a dead one. May he think of me from time to time, if he has the time for it. I know that the living are very busy.

This horse has got a good master, and he deserves it.

Everybody's funny if you love them.

I am quite surprised, that with all my work, and some of it is very, very good, that nobody talks about The Miracle Worker. We're talking about Mrs. Robinson. I understand the world... I'm just a little dismayed that people aren't beyond it yet.

There are some questions that shouldn't be asked until a person is mature enough to appreciate the answers.

Dear Jean, I have seen a deer. I have petted a pony. I helped plant a garden. I have smelled earth and felt it in my hands. You watched the sun rise. These things are worth the struggle to live outside.

The courtyard kept changing, dazzling her with the flowers that bloomed between one day and the next, with the bare branches of trees that were swollen with the buds of new leaves and then fuzzed with green. Every day, she drove a familiar road through a new place.

He didn't understand why everyone fussed about taking clean clothes out of a drawer. Underclothes smelled a lot more interesting after the female wore them.

Nothing wrong with the way your mother looks. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, and every hour in between, she looks just fine.

I don't want the body,* she whimpered. *It hurts.* *Not always, sweetheart. Not always. Without the body, how will you hear a bird's song? How will you feel a warm summer rain on your skin? How will you taste nutcakes? How will you walk on a beach at sunset and feel the sand and surf under your... hooves?*

A special gift for a special Lady.

Dear Jean, I have seen a deer. I have petted a pony. I helped plant a garden. I have smelled earth and felt it in my hands. You watched the sun rise. These things are worth the struggle to live outside. Your friend, Meg