Quotes About Serenity

I still feel the need of some imperishable bliss.

Give me odorous at sunrise a garden of beautiful flowers where I can walk undisturbed.

I think I could turn and live with the animals, they are so placid and self-contained.

Come lovely and soothing death,Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,In the day, in the night, to all, to each,Sooner or later delicate death.

Peace is always beautiful.

To be happy is to be able to become aware of oneself without fright.

The weariness and serenity of the churches just now make it a good time to study the prophets and get rid of tired misconceptions. The dominant conservative misconception, evident in manifold bumper stickers, is that the prophet is a fortune-teller, a predictor of things to come (mostly ominous), usually with specific reference to Jesus.

Slowly, silently, now the moonWalks the night in her silver shoon.

Quizá Dios tenga que recordarnos con tremenda claridad que eso es exactamente lo que quería decirnos con esas palabras aparentemente tan simples del Sermón de la Montaña: «No estéis preocupados por vuestra vida: qué vais a comer; o por vuestro cuerpo: con qué os vais a vestir. Buscad primero el Reino de Dios y su justicia, y todas estas cosas se os añadirán».

Just breathing can be such a luxury sometimes.

Lieber hinsetzen und entspannen als hinspannen und entsetzen.

Man sagt, Verrückte verspüren manchmal in aussichtslosen Situationen eine unsinnige Gelassenheit.

Rest easy and go with the faith you lived with

O what a thing is age! Death without death's quiet.

In listening mood she seemed to stand,The guardian Naiad of the strand.

Vacant heart, and hand, and eye,Easy live and quiet die.

Do I situate myself in an environment that fosters recollection, that fosters calm, that allows me to see the value of things? Piles do not allow me to see the value of things. So what kind of space do I live in?

Empty hills, no one in sight,only the sound of someone talking;late sunlight enters the deep wood,shining over the green moss again.

Seated alone by shadowy bamboos, I strum my lyre and laugh aloud; None know that I am here, deep in the woods; Only the bright moon comes to shine on me.

Clear waters drift through the immensity of a tall forest. In front of me a huge river mouth receives the long wind. Deep ripples hold white sand and white fish swimming as in a void. I sprawl on a big rock, billows nourishing my humble body. I gargle with water and wash my feet. A fisherman pauses out on the surf. So many fish long for bait. I look only to the east with its lotus leaves.

Watching wild landscapes I forget distance and come to the water's edge.

I burned incense, swept the earth, and waited for a poem to come... Then I laughed, and climbed the mountain, leaning on my staff. How I'd love to be a master of the blue sky's art: see how many sprigs of snow-white clouds he's brushed in so far today

Like a bowl of water, so is the soul; like the light falling on the water, so are the impressions the soul receives. When the water is disturbed, the light also seems to be disturbed; yet it is not disturbed. Epictetus, Discourses 3.4.20

When a steadfast mind knows that there is no difference between a day and an age, whatever the days or events that may come, then it can look out from the heights and laugh as it reflects on the succession of the ages. Seneca, Epistles 101.9