Quotes About Tranquility

It is a good idea to be alone in a garden at dawn or dark so that all its shy presences may haunt you and possess you in a reverie of suspended thought.

When alone, concentrate on the fruits of the solitude, not on the poisons of it!

There are people who like to be alone without feeling lonely at all.

the comfort of reclusion, the poetry of hibernation

Be at peace with yourself first and then you will be able to bring peace to others.

Be patient and calm; no one can catch fish in anger.

make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came. Wendell Berry

He nearly always seems steady, reined pretty tight. But it's no trouble to look at him now and see that it has been a long time since he has been at rest in himself.

He has come into a wakefulness as quiet as sleep.

We enter solitude, in which also we lose loneliness.

And I, through woods and fields, through fallen days Am passing to where I belong: At home, at ease, and well, In Sabbaths of this place Almost invisible, Toward which I go from song to song.

a place where thought can take its shape as quietly in the mind as water in a pitcher...

Sometimes," said Thoreau, "as I drift idly on Walden Pond, I cease to live and begin to be.

In the face of warfare and inevitable death, there is no wisdom but in ataraxia,—"to look on all things with a mind at peace.

I have teken refuge in the doctrine that advises one not to seek tranquility in certainty but in permanently suspended judgement.

All the itch and clutter of the world, its bother and fuss, its nagging pettiness, can wear you down so easily. And this is why I like the beach ...

But peace is my heart: I know it is.

I am not religious, I reckon. But peace is in my heart: I know it is.

Só que nossa terra não era como esta. Só de caminhar por ela a gente sentia uma coisa. Uma espécie de fecundidade tranquila e violenta que satisfazia até a fome de pão quase.

There was something oddly restful about the fireflies. He couldn't put his finger on it but he drew comfort from it anyway. The way they'd seemed not separate entities but a single being, a moving river of light that flowed above the dark water like its negative image and attained a transient and fragile dominion over the provinces of night.

Before something happens in the realm of calmness, we do not feel the calmness; only when something happens within it do we find the calmness.

And oft I harked into the night of the Land; but there was nowhere any sound, or disturbing of the aether, to trouble me.

The supreme contemporary example of such an inability to feel evil is of course Walt Whitman. His favorite occupation, writes his disciple, Dr. Bucke seemed to be strolling or sauntering about outdoors by himself, looking at the grass, the trees, the flowers, the vistas of light, the varying aspects of the sky, and listening to the birds, the crickets, the tree frogs, and all the hundreds of natural sounds.

Everything, even the dirt, was poised.