Quotes About Serenity

Peace is neutral, and not very sexy.

No news is good news.

No news at 4:30 a.m. is good.

The most restorative activity is to get out in nature where the air quality is a little nicer.

To me, the nicest luxury would be to have a room where I could keep all my books in one place - and have space for more.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.

I'm not going to get mad over something that I have no control over.

There's no point in dwelling on the controversies created by others.

What is not in my control, there is no point thinking about it.

To be real with you, I have no problem with being a hermit, man.

He especially liked to look at the trees and their reflections in the river. North Carolina trees are beautiful in deep autumn: greens, yellows, reds, oranges, every shade in between, their dazzling colours glowing with the sun.

Stille ist heilig. Sie verbindet Menschen, denn nur wenn man sich in Gegenwart eines anderen wirklich wohl fühlt, kann man schweigend beieinander sitzen. Das ist das große Paradoxon.

Il silenzio è puro. Il silenzio è sacro. Unisce le persone perchè solo chi si sente a proprio agio in compagnia di un altro può fare a meno di parlare.

Even the creek is still. In the darkness it looks like empty space, and I find that I'm drawn to its mystery.

Él entornó los ojos mientras ella se apoyaba en su hombro, y en un instante, ya nada le importó. Ni la canción, ni el local, ni las otras parejas a su alrededor. Solo ella. Se entregó a la agradable sensación de sentir el cuerpo de Elizabeth tan cerca, pegado al suyo, y se movieron lentamente en pequeños círculos sobre el suelo lleno de serrín, perdidos en un mundo que parecía estar creado solamente para ellos dos.

And now I'm back outside again sitting in the white plastic chair looking at the dew on the gas cap of my car. A fly wants to bit me on the ankle. The mosquitoes are all asleep. They're just not out at this hour. Only one biting fly. And a mourning dove, who blows through his thumbs to make that sound.

She pressed her fingertips to the cold glass. Outside the night was beautiful but frozen. The trees were still as statues. Above the trees swung a little star, glittering in the deep dark of the night, sometimes obscured by the scurrying cloud, sometimes shining bright, growing in strength.

Sometimes, waking early before the others, wandering the rooms wrapped in a blanket or drinking my tea in the empty kitchen, I had that most rare of feelings, the sense that the world, so consistently overwhelming and incomprehensible, in fact has an order, oblique as it may seem, and I a place within it.

There's a hurried intensity in the strokes--you can see where he scratched into the wet paint with the end of the brush. It's as if he knew there wasn't much time left. And yet, there's a serenity in his face, a sense of something that's survived its own ruin.

Blessed are the sleepy ones: for they shall soon nod off.

Like Hemingway said, the only thing that could spoil a day was people.

The higher we went the more our spirits seemed to become purged and exalted. Once again I felt the influence on the soul of pure air, easy breathing and a vast horizon. Anyone would think the soul, too, was an animal with lungs and nostrils, and that it needed oxygen, was stifled in the dust or in the midst of too much stale breath.

My joys here are great, because they are very simple and spring from the everlasting elements: the pure air, the sun, the sea and the wheaten loaf.

Having as little to do with human beings as possible - in some weird way, I'm at peace.