Quotes About Renewal

I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more. JEREMIAH 31:34

You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. MATTHEW 5:13

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. ISAIAH 40:28 – 29

The sun glistened on a drop of water as it fell from his hand to his knee. David wiped it off, but it left no tidemark: there was no more dirt to rub away. He took a deep breath and shivered. He was David. Everything else was washed away, the camp, its smell, its touch--and now he was David, his own master, free--free as long as he could remain so.

The earth is rocky and full of roots it's clay, and it seems doomed and polluted, but you dig little holes for the ugly shriveled bulbs, throw in a handful of poppy seeds, and cover it all over, and you know you'll never see it again - it's death and clay and shrivel, and your hands are nicked from the rocks, your nails black with soil.

Emotions are lovely. Even if they fall to the negative for a time. The sun will rise again another day. The sadness perhaps never forgotten, but a new day enjoyed in another way. A way that could not have been but for the sadness's existence.

Come, what secret describes this scene?" "Enjoy everything around you, even if you've seen it a thousand times before?" She said it as lightly as she could, as was often the case around him. She never knew whether to treat his attention as lingering amusement or seriousness. His fingers touched her chin, lifting it softly. "Even should I see you a thousand times. Each time would be a new lure.

Perhaps I am a bear, or some hibernating animal underneath, for the instinct to be half asleep all winter is so strong in me.

Women need solitude in order to find again the true essence of themselves.

I find there is a quality to being alone that is incredibly precious. Life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid, fuller than before.

Walter loves the sea, and I need it in some elemental way that I cannot even come close to verbalizing. I become dim and shriveled somehow at my very core if I am away from the sea too long. When I return to it I seem to fill up and overflow with it, soaking in the vast, sighing wetness of it like a parched vine in a long, soft spring rain.

Forsythia that I thought had been dozed into oblivion sprang up and misted the foundations with lemon icing I yearn for all winter.

Then all this became history. Your hand found mine. Life rushed to my fingers like a blood clot. Oh, my carpenter, the fingers are rebuilt. They dance with yours.

Out of used furniture she made a tree.

I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving; then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything." Anne Sexton, in a letter to W.D. Snodgrass (November 28, 1958)

There is hope. There is hope everywhere. Today God gives milk and I have the pail

The butterfly owns her now. It covers her and her wounds.

I do a death dance, I lay a snake skin…

And if there was one thing that was truly American, it was the belief that it was always possible to start again.

If there was one thing that was truly American, it was the belief that it was always possible to start again.

Une première fois n'est neuve que de la vérité de son désir que de se vouloir miséricorde et bonté mutuelle, qu'importe une première fois

Den mand der vendte tilbage den aften, er ikke længere den samme som ham jeg gik rundt med indeni gennem det år hvor han var her, og derefter mens jeg skrev. Den mand kommer jeg aldrig til at se igen. Ikke desto mindre er det denne uvirkelige, næsten ikke eksisterende tilbagevenden der giver min lidenskab den sande mening. Som er at være uden mening - og i to år at have været den mest voldsomme og mest uforklarlige virkelighed.

Well I thought my time was over, but it's only just begun.

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.