Quotes About Wonder

When nature seems to bend to the will of God and man, we call it a miracle. Is it possible that what we define as a miracle is simply the reestablishing of the proper order of creation?

Suppose you meet me in the woods.

But how much better, in any case, to wonder than not to wonder, to dance with astonishment and go spinning in praise, than not to know enough to dance or praise at all; to be blessed with more imagination than you might know at the given moment what to do with than to be cursed with too little to give you -- and other people -- any trouble.

I learned from the age of two or three, that any room in our house, at any time of day, was there to read in, or to be read to. It had been startling and disappointing for me to find out that story books had been written by people, that books were not natural wonders, coming up of themselves like grass.

Do rhinoceroses cough?

JEAN: I promise you'll recognize her by her smile. No-one smiles like her. She's on the tall side, I think, and she has long arms. But you'll recognize her too by the look of wonder on her face at finding herself here . . . She'll close her eyes a minute because the light's too strong. She'll ask you if I've been here if you've seen me, if anyone's waiting for her.

Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe; Sailed off on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew. Where are you going and what do you wish? the old moon asked the three. We've come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea. Nets of silver and gold have we, said Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod.

And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed; So shut your eyes while Mother sings Of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things As you rock on the misty sea.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, and Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee one's trundle-bed. So shut your eyes while Mother sings of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things as you rock in the misty sea, Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, and Nod.

Again, if there are really no fairies, why do people believe in them, all over the world? The ancient Greeks believed, so did the old Egyptians, and the Hindoos, and the Red Indians, and is it likely, if there are no fairies, that so many different peoples would have seen and heard them?

There's an intelligence there, a raging fire of curiosity.

I'd point out that by that logic, every living thing that manages to be born is a miracle—and if we're all miracles, then nobody is, because the word has lost its meaning. Life works or it doesn't.

Books and movies are portals through which we escape from sour reality. They enable us to change our names, our history, our faces and our tomorrows, at least for a few hours. Most people don't realize they are traveling on magic carpets.

The Jabberwocky': 'Calloo! Callay! O frabjous day! And so he chortled in his joy.

There is one thing that all true spirituality has in common, whether that spirituality is derived from faith, from science, from nature or from the arts - a sense of wonder.

A world between my fingers.

But, Dandelion, I could never resist the temptation of having a look at something that doesn't exist.

There are things in heaven and earth that even philosophers have never dreamed about.

Hej! - rycza? Yarpen Zigrin siedz?cy na ko?le, wskazuj?c na Yennefer. - Co? si? tam czerni na szlaku! Ciekawe, co to? Wygl?da jak koby?a! - Bez ochyby! - odwrzasn?? Jaskier, odsuwaj?c na ty? g?owy ?liwkowy kapelusik. - To koby?a! Wierzchem na wa?achu! Niebywa?e!

So many little animals, oh my. There can't be so many anywhere else.' 'There can't,' he muttered. 'Nowhere else. This is Brokilon.' 'What?' 'Brokilon. The Last Place.' 'I don't understand.' 'No one understands. No one wants to understand.

Ai confundat cerul cu stelele reflectate noaptea pe suprafata unui lac

You thought?" The landsknecht glanced at him piteously. "With what, I wonder? If you swallowed a cockroach with your soap, dolt, you'd have more intelligence in your guts than in your head.

If I'm busy, I might overlook something magnificent and splendid like a rare mushroom in the forest … and who knows when I might see such an amazing thing again?

Occasionally I have come across a last patch of snow on top of a mountain in late May or June. There's something very powerful about finding snow in summer.