Quotes About Light

She hated the noise and the streaks of light, and the crackling tension in the air, but most of all she hated what it made her feel. ~ Kate God, he loved thunderstorms. Hard to tell why. Maybe it was just the proof of nature's power over man. Maybe it was the sheer energy of the light and sound that pounded around him. Whatever the case, it made him feel alive. ~ Anthony

When human beings distance themselves from their own inner truth and the truth around them, we can't see ourselves in our true light and that is to our detriment.

From its brilliancy everything is illuminated.

I don't think German films have to be heavy or intellectual the way they sometimes used to be.

There was one man who was interested in the color of music, the connection between light and music, and that was Einstein.

We are each gifted in a unique and important way. It is our privilege and our adventure to discover our own special light.

Spiritually we start from that moment and that place where we decide to re-commit ourselves to the Journey, to re-surrender our wills to the will of the Great Source, to enlist with finality in the Company of Light. Sooner or later this great moment comes to us, but it must be with finality,

the night of thought is the light of perception.

The things done, the victories gained over circumstances by St. Bernard or St. Joan of Arc, by St. Catherine of Siena, St. Ignatius Loyola, St. Teresa, George Fox, are hardly to be explained unless these great spirits had indeed a closer, more intimate, more bracing contact than their fellows with that Life "which is the light of men.

Di solito nei nostri muri trasparenti, che sembrano tessuti d'aria scintillante, noi viviamo sempre in bella vista, eternamente lavati dalla luce. Non abbiamo da nasconderci nulla l'un l'altro.

We work in the dark to serve the light, we are assassins!

Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.

Properly, we should read for power. Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.

I would hold the rosy, slender fingers of the dawn for you.

Man reading ought to be a man intensely alive. The book ought to be a ball of light in his hands.

There is the subtler music, the clear light Where time burns back about th'eternal embers. We are not shut from the thousand heavens: Lo, there are many gods whom we have seen, Folk of unearthly fashion, places splendid, Bulwarks of beryl and of chrysophrase. Sapphire Benacus, in thy mists and thee Nature herself's turned metaphysical, Who can look at that blue and not believe?

ALBA from "Langue d'Oc" When the nightingale to his mate Sings day-long and night late My love and I keep state In bower, In flower, 'Till the watchman on the tower Cry: "Up! Thou rascal, Rise, I see the white Light And the night Flies.

And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban nights are like the night there. I have looked down across the city from high windows. It is then that the great buildings lose reality and take on their magical powers. They are immaterial; that is to say, one sees but the lighted windows. Squares after squares of flame, set and cut into the Aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.

that the body of light come forth from the body of fire And that your eyes come to the surface from the deep wherein they were sunken, Reina -- for 300 years, and now sunken That your eyes come forth from their caves

Go, my songs, seek your praise from the young and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfection alone. Seek ever to stand in the hard Sophoclean light And take your wounds from it gladly.

And the red sun mocks my sadness.

thus the light rains, then pours, the liquid and rushing crystal beneath the knees of the gods.

Out of dark, thou, Father Helios, leadest, but the mind as Ixion, unstill, ever turning.

Man reading should be man intensely alive. The book should be a ball of light in one's hand.