Quotes About Light

You are not a body. You are not a mind. You are infinite light, infinite intelligence, the radiance of all beings, the dharmakaya - the endless light of creation.

My darkness has been filled with the light of intelligence, and behold, the outer day-lit world was stumbling and groping in social blindness.

Faith comes to intelligence as a light that overflows it with joy and inspires it with a certitude that does away with question.

Definitely an intelligence in the light of the heart. In yoga, we refer to this as the heart center - right behind the breastbone, and visualize it as a golden candle flame of light and spirit.

Jealousy has the amazing power to illuminate a single person in an intense beam of light, keeping the multitude of others in total darkness.

Allow the light and the healing presence of Christ to shine brightly through your lives. In that way, all those who come in contact with you will discover the loving kindness of God.

That which you give to another will become your own sustenance; if you light a lamp for another, your own way will be lit.

There are people who...tell you that the light in your heart is a weakness. Don't believe it! It's an old tactic of cruel people to kill kindness in the name of virtue.

Spontaneous kindness is to hipsters as high beams are to deer.

We could all be mediums, and all have absolute knowledge, if the bright light of our ego consciousness would not dim it.

Río de Janeiro y Brasil entero son un paraíso en el que abunda todo lo que la vida animal tiene de delicado y bravío, del colibrí al jaguar. Hay ríos que parecen lagos, lagos que parecen mares y cascadas que rugen, y una luz tropical que deslumbra...

For some dark reason you heretics come in droves to this House of God. Its light attracts you, but you are incapable of recognizing that.

And the famous invocation is for light and understanding: 'Lead me from the unreal to the real! Lead me from darkness to light! Lead me from death to immortality.'… There is no humility about this quest, the humility before an all-powerful deity, so often associated with religion. In a morning prayer, the sun is addressed thus: 'O sun of refulgent glory, I am the same person as makes thee what thou art.' What a superb self-confidence!

It was Sophie who, by the example of her work and her life, both of them bathed in clarity, showed me the right way. In her world, the high and the low, the light and the dark, the eternal and the ephemeral, are balanced in prefect equilibrium.

That arc of light, born of the shower and colored by the sun, which spans the heavens!

even if our entire audiovisual legacy were to be lost in a power cut, we would still be able to read books in the light from the sun, or in the evening by a candlelight.

I like structure - like driving: go past the school on the street, stay on the right side, no hitting the car, go in right, you'll see a big church, stop and take a left, and you'll have it. By doing this I'm giving a structure of life, a path of light, and showing what happens between me and me, which is something very beautiful.

I must say this now about that first fire. It was magic. Out of dead tinder and grass and sticks came a live warm light. It cracked and snapped and smoked and filled the woods with brightness. It lighted the trees and made them warm and friendly. It stood tall and bright and held back the night.

Nimic nu e mai strâmb ?i mai fals decât o literatur? sau un film care înf??i?eaz? doar o lume uniform sinistr?. Pân? ?i în vie?ile cele mai întunecate exist? zile luminoase, plimb?ri pe malul apei ?i speran?e de fericire.

Mieux vaut allumer une petite lanterne que maudire les ténèbres

Nu vorbea decât de dragoste, agitând bombe. Aprindea ruguri, dar nu voia s? vad? decât lumina lor.

When the name was in the room, it came to pass that the murderer, abashed, opened up, and there sprang forth, like a Glory, from his pitiable fragments, an altar on which there lay, in the roses, a woman of light and flesh. The alter undulated on a foul mud into which it sank: the murderer.

And he was apprehensive that some light, emanating from within his body, or from his true consciousness, might not be illuminating him, might not, in some way from inside the scaly carapace, give off a reflection of that true form and make him visible to men, who would then have to hunt him down.

I let myself drift, as to the depth of an ocean, to the depths of a dismal neighborhood of had and opaque but rather light houses, to the inner gaze of memory, for the matter of memory is porous