Quotes About Tranquility

Quick now, here, now, always, as if we are in a condition of complete simplicity...

This is just another day in April, a Tuesday defined by isolation and hard-won serenity

In her countless long walks over these one hundred and thirty acres

Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility. —James Thurber

Having found peace in isolation, she won't put it at risk.

You can have privacy and tranquility up there, too, but also a sort of neighborhood.

meant to go down to the water and sit in the dock chair, let the blissful tranquility of the lake

Then, in the tranquility of church on Christmas Eve, everything had come into perspective for Cait. There had been crowds and rudeness that first Christmas, too, she reasoned. Yet in the midst of that confusion had come joy and peace and love.

Oddly, I found myself calmer than I'd been in a long while. Maybe it was simply because my muscles ached or maybe because I felt that nothing was more compelling than the stack of wood that was waiting in Camelli's garage.

Most supernatural peace is too quiet for our flesh.

Soft waves broke against the rocks.

Having many enemies means having no peace.

Human beings have a tremendous need to have quiet time alone, to reflect upon life and reconnect with the soul.

There was a curious peace in this day, a sense of things working quietly in their proper courses, nothing minding the upsets and turmoils of human concerns. Perhaps it was the peace that one always finds outdoors, far enough away from buildings and clatter. Maybe it was the result of gardening, that quiet sense of pleasure in touching growing things, the satisfaction of helping them thrive.

I found the rooted silence, rushing stream, and rustling leaves balm to the spirit.

O verdadeiro perdão não é forçado - disse -, mas cai como o suave sereno do céu...

the library held a hushed exultation, as though the cherished volumes were all singing soundlessly within their covers.

Here an ancient oriel window opened glassless to the sky, and the light of the hunter's moon washed us in silver. We lay clasped together, damp skins cooling in the winter air, waiting for our racing hearts to slow and breath to return to our heaving bodies.

day's work, I drifted into sleep at once, soothed

And it was a fine day, one fit for birdsong, rambling the woods, and maybe fishing a bit near sunset.

of grass, watching the

reason returned, and I calmed

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee. And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

I SLEPT THE sleep of the gardener, physical exhaustion leavened by tranquility