Quotes About Appreciation

We miss the roses and see only the thorns. We take for granted the warmth of the sun and get depressed by the frequency of the rain or the snow. We ignore the sounds of life in a nursery because we are preoccupied with the sounds of sirens responding to an emergency.

En síntesis, aceptar y celebrar el hilo de nuestra propia personalidad es el primer paso para comprender el diseño del gran Tejedor en nuestra vida. No eres un número. Él te conoce por tu nombre. Cada etapa del proceso tal vez no parezca muy atractiva, pero cada detalle saldrá a relucir y será hermoso a su manera.

La fel cum bondarul zboar? deÈ™i nu are o form? aerodinamic?, tot aÈ™a un om care îÈ™i aminteÈ™te ce înseamn? s? fii copil È™tie s? acorde raÈ›iunii È™i emoÈ›iei locul cuvenit, p?strând în acelaÈ™i timp ochii deschiÈ™i în faÈ›a miracolului lumii. Amintirile È™i visurile în care întrez?rim o f?râm? de mirare ne îndeamn? s? c?ut?m mai departe.

RecunoÈ™tinÈ›a copleÈ™eÈ™te inima atunci când darul este înÈ›eles, È™i sentimentul miracolului copleÈ™eÈ™te sufletul atunci când recunoÈ™tinÈ›a este pe deplin exprimat?.

Do you know that books smell like nutmeg or some spice from a foreign land? I loved to smell them when I was a boy. Lord, there were a lot of lovely books once, before we let them go.

Sunsets we always liked because they only happen once and go away. But, Lena, that's sad. No, if the sunset stayed and we got bored, that would be a real sadness.

Have you ever watched the jet cars race on the boulevard?...I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is, or flowers, because they never see them slowly...If you showed a driver a green blur, Oh yes! He'd say, that's grass! A pink blur! That's a rose garden! White blurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows.

He stood breathing, and the more he breathed the land in, the more he was filled up with all the details of the land. He was not empty. There was more than enough here to fill him. There would always be more than enough.

Why love the woman who is your wife? Her nose breathes in the air of a world that I know; therefore I love that nose. Her ears hear music I might sing half the night through; therefore I love her ears. Her eyes delight in seasons of the land; and so I love those eyes. Her tongue knows quince, peach, chokeberry, mint and lime; I love to hear it speaking. Because her flesh knows heat, cold, affliction, I know fire, snow, and pain. Shared and once again shared experience.

Last night I thought about all the kerosene I've used in the past ten years. And I thought about books. And for the first time I realized that a man was behind each one of the books. A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper. And I'd never even thought that thought before...It took some man a lifetime maybe to put some of his thoughts down, looking around at the world and life, and then I come along in two minutes and boom! it's all over.

The father hesitated only a moment. He felt the vague pain in his chest. If I run, he thought, what will happen? Is Death important? No. Everything that happens before Death is what counts. And we've done fine tonight. Even Death can't spoil it.

If you have moved over vast territories and dared to love silly things, you will have learned even from the most primitive items collected and put aside in your life.

It's important to read a book, but also to hold the book, to smell the book... it's perfume, it's incense, it's the dust of Egypt...

If you enjoy living, it is not difficult to keep the sense of wonder.

A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion.

I sometimes think drivers don't know what grass is, or flowers, because they never see them slowly, she said. If you showed a driver a green blur, Oh yes! he'd say, that's grass! A pink blur? That's a rose-garden! White blurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows. My uncle drove slowly on a highway once. He drove forty miles an hour and they jailed him for two days. Isn't that funny, and sad, too?

I talk. Jim runs. I tilt stones, Jim grabs the cold junk under the stones and -lickety-split! I climb hills. Jim yells off church steeples. I got a bank account. Jim's got the hair on his head, the yell in his mouth, the shirt on his back and the tennis shoes on his feet. How come I think he's richer?

I want your loves to be multiple. I don't want you to be a snob about anything. Anything you love, you do it.

The Animal does not question lif. It lives. It's very reason for living is life; it enjoys and relishes life.

I want to wake people up and make them care about being alive in this universe.

They run amuck; I let them. Pride of lions in the yard. Stare and they burn a hole in your retina. A common flower, a weed that no one sees, yes. But for us, a noble thing, the dandelion.

Treasure this day, and treasure yourself. Truly, neither will ever happen again.

As Samuel Spaulding, Esquire, once said, 'Dig in the earth, delve in the soul.' Spin those mower blades, Bill, and walk in the spray of the Fountain of Youth. End of lecture. Besides, a mess of dandelion greens is good eating once in a while.

RELISH! What a special name for the minced pickle sweetly crushed in its white-capped jar. The man who had named it, what a man he must have been. Roaring, stamping around, he must have tromped the joys of the world and jammed them in this jar and writ in a big hand, shouting, RELISH! For its very sound meant rolling in sweet fields with roistering chestnut mares, mouths bearded with grass, plunging your head fathoms deep in trough water so the sea poured cavernously through your head. RELISH!