Quotes About Light

I was in a room of the bluest light—pure blue, cerulean blue, the blue the sky would be if it were married to the sea.

She remembered no one at all. She remembered one day thinking: I am alone. There is no I but I. She lived in the dark. She taught herself to walk in the light, though it was not easy.

George was an atheist, and so am I. But how I long now for an afterlife - a world of light or of deep dazzling darkness, where he and the others we've lost reside, unscathed, forever accessible - to have tea with, to talk nonsense with, to reinvent the world with

Wishing that a lucky star continues to shine for you and lights up this

The wisdom which is now conventional claims that light creates shadows. But the facts are otherwise. Darkness came first and is infinitely older and more enduring than light. Light borrows a little space; then it dies or moves on, and the dark exists again as if it had never been disturbed.

But darkness, too, really existed, as light's opposite pole.

The mind of age is like a lamp Whose oil is running thin; One moment it is shining bright, Then darkness closes in.

A graceful arch of brows above great eyes; Lips bathed in darting, smiling light that flies Reflected from white teeth; a mouth as red As red karkandhu-fruit; love's brightness shed O'er all her face in bursts of liquid charm— The picture speaks, with living beauty warm.

I have known in my body the sport of the universe: I have escaped from the error of this world. The inward and the outward are become as one sky, the Infinite and the finite are united: I am drunken with the sight of this All! This Light of Thine fulfils the universe: the lamp of love that burns on the salver of knowledge. Kabir says: "There error cannot enter, and the conflict of life and death is felt no more.

The mirror of pure awareness is obscured by layers of emotional and mental conditioning. Just as polishing transforms a mineral or stone into a reflective object, regularly wiping clean the mirror of awareness will allow a human being to reflect the light of Being itself. The spiritual process can be understood as learning to consciously reflect more and more of this Being. If we would clear the inner mirror, the light of Being would be reflected outwardly, pouring out of our eyes. (p. 100)

The leaf that spreads in the sunlight is the only holiness there is.

We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side.

You see but your shadow when you turn your back to the sun.

The dawn invests our substance with desire And the slow light betrays us, and our wistfulness: When the celestial saffron Is faded and grown colourless, And the sun Gone sterile, and the growing fire Stirs us to waken, We find ourselves again Each in his separate prison Ready, hopeless For negotiation With other men.

Somehow, impossibly, the interior of the space we're in is coated in ice. It shines as light from above cascades down on it, reflecting and refracting, spinning different colors with every new facet of itself. There are planes and crags of it around the walls, with parts of it worked smooth, while others are ragged and shifting.", FADE by Kailin Gow

Our mind is the canvas on which the artists lay their colour; their pigments are our emotions; their chiaroscuro the light of joy, the shadow of sadness. The masterpiece is of ourselves, as we are of the masterpiece.

three torches burning with a single flame.

Darkness, real darkness, was more than just a lack of light.

We went to school in a place without the sun,and believed this means we had no need of our shadows.

Its a moonsmile. No light of its own unless there's a sun for it to reflect off

Yes, I know everything can disappear in a flash of light. That doesn't make anything less valuable.

There were moments, Hasan, when I like to think that the stars are bullet-holes. For every bullet shot by an oppressor there springs to life a star, with so great a radiance that it can never be put out, it can never be imprisoned. But if that really were true, the last three months in this city would have erased every trace of blackness from the sky.

By the time the first light appeared in the sky she felt herself transformed by the desire to be known, completely.

Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you're choking on it — until you let the sun in. As long as we keep shining that light, we have a chance of cleaning it wherever it lands.