Quotes About Serenity

I want to be where no possessions remind me of the past and by the sea, which is for me the great healer.

A summer calm laid its soothing hand over everything, like death.

He didn't answer but reached over and put his hand at the root of my hair and ran his fingers out slowly to the tip ends like a comb. A little electric shock flared through me and I sat quite still. Ever since I was small I loved feeling somebody comb my hair. It made me go all sleepy and peaceful.

I felt surprisingly at peace. The bell jar hung, suspended, a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air.

Pure and clean as the cry of a baby, And the universe slide from my side

What I decided to do in the end was lie in bed as long as I wanted to and then go to Central Park and spend the day lying in the grass, the longest grass I could find in that bald, duck-ponded wilderness.

towels I felt pure and sweet as a new baby.

I sometimes think my vision of the sea is the clearest thing I own.

felt my lungs inflate with the inrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, 'This is what it is to be happy.

ama as?l son kez yatt???mda bilinecek deÄŸerim: aÄŸaçlar dokunabilir o zaman, bana ay?racak zamanlar? olur çiçeklerin.

a quiet large house with no interruptions, phone, or visitors;

If I didn't think, I'd be much happier.

They have too many colors, too much life. They are not quiet, quiet, like the little emptinesses I carry.

Those words spoke to my heart with peace, as if in comment, kindly, on my life, my days.

In the corner of my garden There is a favorite spot, Which sun and rain tend faithfully And which I planted not. Here is the haven of wild flowers, The kingdom of birds and bees; Here in the silvery moonlight Sprites dance 'neath singing trees.

Among petals pale as death And leaves steadfast in shape They sleep on, mouth to mouth. A white mist is going up. The small green nostrils breathe, And they turn in their sleep. Ousted from that warm bed We are a dream they dream. Their eyelids keep the shade. No harm can come to them. We cast our skins and slide Into another time.

146 Stars Over the Dordogne Stars are dropping thick as stones into the twiggy Picket of trees whose silhouette is darker Than the dark of the sky because it is quite starless. The woods are a well. The stars drop silently. They seem large, yet they drop, and no gap is visible. Nor do they send up fires where they fall Or any signal of distress or anxiousness. They are eaten immediately by the pines.

There is a certain unique and strange delight about walking down an empty street alone. There is an off-focus light cast by the moon, and the streetlights are part of the spotlight apparatus on a bare stage set up for you to walk through. You get a feeling of being listened to, so you talk aloud, softly, to see how it sounds:

ache and ache to return to my proper place, which is curled up right there, sheltered and cherished

So come, and slowly we will walk through green gardens and marvel at this strange and sweet world.

Turning to the open window above my head, I saw the full moon, glowing as bright as a pot of molten silver. Moonlight poured through the window, and through the gaps in the thatched roof, painting the interior of the hut with its gleaming brush. For a moment, the moonlight nearly disguised the poverty of the room, covering the earthen floor with a sheath of silver, the rough clay walls with sparkles of light, and the still-sleeping form in the corner with the glow of an angel.

Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit still.

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

i said to my soul be still and wait so the darkness shall be the light and the stillness the dancing.