Quotes About Wonder

The world is a much more beautiful and incredible place than you think, and each of us has a great deal of power to make it more so.

I like to believe magic is all around us, finding its way into everyday life one miracle at a time.

Genius is not the one who gives answers, it's the one who asks the questions.

The scientific observer of Nature is a kind of mystic seeker in the act of prayer.

We wake, if ever at all, to mystery.

I am bewildered by the magnificence of your beauty; and wish to see you with a hundred eyes . . . I am in the house of mercy, and my heart is a place of prayer.

As we come closer to Him, we not only "stand all amazed"-we even kneel all amazed!

I did not pray Him to lay bare The mystery to me, Enough the rose was Heaven to smell, And His own face to see.

Children are natural Zen masters; their world is brand new in each and every moment.

Poetry is always slightly mysterious, and you wonder what is your relationship to it.

If you can't see the joy and wonder to be found in genre fiction, that's your problem, not mine.

I was half mad with beauty on that day.

It is the childlike part of us that produces works of the imagination. When we were children time passed so slow with us that we seemed to have time for everything.

Placing wonder on a beautiful baby Young, fresh with innocence Trials of life Dusted with vision Waiting to be polluted

They Said, "what sign can you give us to see, so that we may believe you?" - John 6: 30 - 31 You do not believe although you have seen... - John 6: 36 - 37

For a time, Karras watched him as he listed down the street; watched with fondness and with wonder at the heart's labyrinthine turnings and improbable redemptions.

He thought of death in its infinite groanings, of Aztecs ripping out living hearts and of cancer and three-year-olds buried alive and he wondered whether God was alien and cruel, but then remembered Beethoven and the dappling of things and "Hurrah for Karamazov" and kindness.

Good Christ almighty!

A writer lives, at least, in a state of astonishment. Beneath any feeling he has of the good or evil of the world lies a deeper one of wonder at it all. To transmit that feeling, he writes.

A writer lives at best, in a state of astonishment.

I know you will remember this — that nothing good ever ends. If it did, there would be no people in the world — no life at all, anywhere. And the world is full of people and full of wonderful life.

O brave new world,That has such people in't!

Full many a glorious morning have I seen.

An angel! or, if not,An earthly paragon!