Quotes About Appreciation

To be young and alive was a glorious thing. When you possessed it, you were likely unable to fully comprehend that it was a marvel and a gift, no matter your circumstances.

I'm really happy that you're here." This is not an outright lie. No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way.

Às vezes, você não sabe como tem sorte na vida até que o tempo tenha passado. Sally tinha vontade de se sentar com as filhas e dizer: Não percam um só instante, mas aquilo não serviria de nada. A pessoa tinha que viver a vida antes de ver sentido nisso.

Be grateful if you have walked through the world with another's heart in your hand.

You could grow to love something so strong and elemental, but you'd have to value the beauty of it more than you did your own life.

What belonged to you once, will always belong to you. Be grateful if you have walked through the world with another's heart in your hand.

You could grow to love something so strong and elemental, but you'd have to value the beauty of it more than you did your own life.

In his opinion, a woman who loved books was the best sort.

Thanks so much for this," she said as he pulled to the curb. She put the strap of her pocketbook over her arm, put her hand on the door handle. "You really didn't have to." He seemed to rouse himself from a growing disengagement. "I wanted to," he said. "It was nice to have a chance to get to know you better," he

The path to adulthood lies not in tolerance for the cruelties we have been exposed to but in the realization of our own truth and the development of empathy for the maltreated child. It lies in the appreciation of the way in which cruelties have handicapped our whole

Who can ever say the perfect thing to the poet about his poetry?

Now that I think of it, she looked splendid. I wish I had met her somewhere else. I wish I had appreciated her as she deserved. I wish that everything had gone differently.

One's appreciation of meager comforts, it seems, depends on what misery one has gone through before getting them.

The tiny share we have of time appalls me, though my father seems to regard it with tranquillity.

Time had been filled, reliably, agreeably, they had not been left adrift, and for this they were truly embarrassingly grateful.

I can't play bridge. I don't play tennis. All those things that people learn, and I admire, there hasn't seemed time for. But what there is time for is looking out the window.

One's appreciation of meager comforts, it seems, depends on what misery one has gone through before getting them.

My father had not been outside the house except to drive back and forth to work or sit out in the backyard, for months, nor had he seen his neighbors. Now he looked at them, from face to face, until he realized I had been loved by people he didn't even recognize. His heart filled up, warm again as it had not been in what seemed so long to him- save small forgotten moments with Buckley, the accidents of love that happened with his son. ~pgs 209-210; Buckley, Lindsey and Jack on Susie

Esos eran los queridos huesos que habían crecido en mi ausencia, las conexiones a veces tenues y a veces hechas con grandes sacrificios, pero a menudo magníficas que habían nacido después de mi desaparición y empecé a ver las cosas de una manera que permitía abrazar al mundo sin estar en él.

Us sing and dance, make faces and give flower bouquets, trying to be loved. You ever notice that trees do everything to get attention we do, except walk?

Listen, God love everything you love - and a mess of stuff you don't. But more than anything. God loves admiration. You saying God vain? I ast. Naw, she say. Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off if you walk by the colour purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.

You saying God vain? I ast. Naw, she say. Not vain, just wanting to share a good thing. I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.

What is always needed in the appreciation of art, or life, is the larger perspective. Connections made, or at least attempted, where none existed before, the straining to encompass in one's glance at the varied world the common thread, the unifying theme through immense diversity, a fearlessness of growth, of search, of looking, that enlarges the private and the public world. And yet, in our particular society, it is the narrowed and narrowing view of life that often wins

There's something in all of us that wants a medal for what we have done. That wants to be appreciated.