Quotes About Renewal

A wet day. And I am glad of the rain, because I have talked too much.

And all the lives we ever lived and all the lives to be, are full of trees and changing leaves

They came there regularly every evening drawn by some need. It was as if the water floated off and set sailing thoughts which had grown stagnant on dry land, and gave to their bodies even some sort of physical relief. First, the pulse of colour flooded the bay with blue, and the heart expanded with it and the body swam, only the next instant to be checked and chilled by the prickly blackness on the ruffled waves.

I raged, and woke to hear the rain.

the Lord who had come to renew society, who lay like a coverlet, a snow blanket smitten only by the sun, for ever unwasted, suffering for ever, the scapegoat, the eternal sufferer...

No temas más, dice el corazón, confiando su carga a algún mar que suspira colectivamente por todas las penas, un mar que se renueva, que comienza a moverse, que se detiene y cae.

So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then.

Most of the dandelions had changed from suns into moons.

I felt my life needed a shake-up.

They were contemplating moving into another house or, more exactly, loudly saying to each other, so as to be overheard by anyone who might be listening, that they were contemplating moving, when all at once the fiend was gone, as happens with the moskovett , that bitter blast, that colossus of cold air that blows on our eastern shores throughout March, and then one morning you hear the birds, and the flags hang flaccid, and the outlines of the world are again in place.

Thus in the far-away Southern village the world lay waiting, half consciously, the coming of two young men, and dreamed in an inarticulate way of new things that would be done and new thoughts that all would think. And yet it was singular that few thought of two John's, -- for the black folk thought of one John, and he was black; and the white folk thought of another John, and he was white. And neither world thought the other world's thought, save with a vague unrest.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk. The rain makes running pools in the gutter. The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night– And I love the rain.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

To yield is to be preserved whole.To be bent is to become straight.To be empty is to be full.To be worn out is to be renewed.To have little is to possess.To have plenty is to be perplexed.

To be worn out is to be renewed.

I feel like I'm finally whole. I'm five thousand years old," he rasped. "But the day you found me in the woods, that's when my life started.

This story is about stink, after all, a story about rot, about how life grows out of the most fetid-smelling places. I leaned into the wall of the coiled cabin, snail, the body curled in upon itself, spine coiled, a snake lying in wait.

Change from the inside out involves a steadfast gaze upon our Lord that's life changing because it reflects a deep turning from a commitment to self-sufficiency. Without repentance, a look at Christ provides only the illusion of comfort.

A cleaner and wiser Fred Lemish now re-enters his Champion boxer shorts and leaves his Dinky Adams. In his garden. His beautiful magical garden

The full-blooded description of this truth, the recognition and dramatization of a political cycle of birth, death, rebirth, defeat, renewal—this is true tragedy, in which absolute loss and devastation, Nothing is arrived at, and from this Nothing, something new is born.

It is possible to bathe in nonsense ... to be refreshed by it.

Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.

A su lado, la mujer que lo había devuelto a la vida lloraba de felicidad, porque sabía que la pesadilla había terminado y ella ya no tendría que vivir como una hija de la noche nunca más. Y sonreía, y soñaba con la nueva vida que los aguardaba al final de la travesía, en una bella finca en Italia, junto al mar, con mucho sol. Mucho sol.

what resonated with him now was not all that he had suffered but the divine love that he believed had intervened to save him. He was not the worthless, broken, forsaken man that the Bird had striven to make of him. In a single, silent moment, his rage, his fear, his humiliation and helplessness, had fallen away. That morning, he believed, he was a new creation. Softly, he wept.