Quotes About Renewal

but, as we know, even when the silver wears away and you're left with copper, if you attend to it every day it has a gleam all its own.

There are times for sleep, for inactivity, dreaming, indiscipline, even lethargy. You'll know when you deserve these times. They come after you've been broken.

There are times for sleep, for inactivity, dreaming, indiscipline, even lethargy. You'll know when you deserve these times. They come after you've been broken. I'm speaking of a helpless, tranquil state before the great excitement of dawn.

Its funny, as soon as you lose faith, you have children, and life reawakens.

Is an ending really another beginning?

This is enough to begin: To know, before all the names and histories drape who we are, that we want to be held and left alone, again and again; held and left alone until the dance of it is how we survive and grow, like spring into winter into spring again.

life becomes a living of who we are until that form of self can no longer hold us, and, like Taaora in his shell, we must break the forms that contain us in order to birth our way into the next self. This is how we shed our many ways of seeing the world, not that any are false, but that each serves its purpose for a time until we grow and they no longer serve us.

We are all made up of yearning and light, searching for a way out, afraid we will be shut in or cut off or repelled back into the ground from which we are reaching. This is enough to begin: To know, before all the names and histories drape who we are, that we want to be held and left alone, again and again; held and left alone until the dance of it is how we survive and grow, like spring into winter into spring again. As

And further, the thing put to rest—whether it be a loved one, a dream, or a false way of seeing—becomes the fertilizer for the life about to form. As the well-used thing joins with the earth, the old love fertilizes the new; the broken dream fertilizes the dream yet conceived; the painful way of being that strapped us to the world fertilizes the freer inner stance about to unfold.

Mark Sanborn

I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them again. I woke at intervals until, by that September when Father went down the river, the intervals of waking tipped the scales, and I was more often awake than not. I noticed this process of waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not far away I would be awake continuously and never slip back, and never be free of myself again.

The old days are dead and gone days. For what I did in the past I have been punished. I have been cured.

I was cured alright.

Özgürlük kokusu bahar çiçekleri gibi güzeldi.

I had seen these transformations, people who had lost their will to live, coming back from their zombie states and radiating a new life force from their eyes.

Every time you empty your vessel of that energy, fresh new energy comes flooding in.

My work was done, so it was time to start digging my grave again.

No season lasts forever because all of life is a cycle of planting, reaping, resting, and renewal. Winter is not infinite: even if you're having challenges today, you can never give up on the coming of spring. For some people, winter means hibernation; for others, it means bobsledding and downhill skiing! You can always just wait out the season, but why not make it into a time to remember?

CHAPTER LIV ARABELLA AGAIN AT BRAGTON

While she was at the deanery there sprung up a renewed friendship between her and Lizzie. It was, indeed, chiefly a one-sided friendship; for Lucy, who was quick and unconsciously capable of reading that book to which we alluded in a previous chapter, was somewhat afraid of the rich widow. And when Lizzie talked to her of their old childish days, and quoted poetry, and spoke of things romantic, — as she was much given to do, — Lucy felt that the metal did not ring true.

CHAPTER LVII MRS. MORTON RETURNS

Men fail often in other things, in the pursuit of honour, fortune, or power, and when they fail they can begin again.

Estoy en el punto donde ya no toco a la vida, pero tengo en mí todos los apetitos y la titilación insistente del ser. Sólo tengo una ocupación: rehacerme.

Written poetry is worth reading once, and then should be destroyed. Let the dead poets make way for others.