Quotes About Serenity

There is no time like the very early morning for subtle and mysterious deeds.

This scene is adapted to my temper. Its mountainous asperities supply me with images of desolation and seclusion, and its headlong streams lull me into temporary forgetfulness of mankind.

Life could be wonderful if people would leave you alone

My ideal life is a quiet one. I like to read, to sit still in the same chair, with the lampshade at a certain angle, alone, or with Meagan nearby, and now and then, if I'm lucky, I'll come across a lovely phrase or fine sentiment, look up from my book, and feel the harmony of some notion, the justice of it, and know that everything is there. That's life to me, those privately discovered moments. I wouldn't settle for less, yet I don't expect a whole lot more, either.

Above the sky, everything is beautiful, but alone. (Au-dessus du ciel, Tout est beau, mais seul)

Body is morning dew that shines to the rise of the hands. (Corps est rosée du matin - Qui brille au lever des mains.)

Silence is an ornament which is visible from inside. (Le silence est une parure Qui se voit de l'intérieur)

Silence is an ornament which is visible from the inside. (Le silence est une parure Qui se voit de l'intérieur)

The noise hides the silence. It does not destroy the silence. (Le bruit cache le silence. - Il ne détruit le silence.)

The water caresses in the glass, like love in the body. (L'eau caresse dans le verre, Comme l'amour dans le corps)

The waves lengthen on the beach; Your hair on your back of an Angel. (Les vagues s'allongent sur la plage; Tes cheveux sur ton dos d'ange)

The waves s' lengthen on the beach; Your hair on your back of an Angel. (Les vagues s'allongent sur la plage; Tes cheveux sur ton dos d'ange. )

It is not easy to walk alone in the country without musing upon something.

Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep.

His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.

Other sound than the owl's voice there was none, save the falling of a fountain into its stone basin; for, it was one of those dark nights that hold their breath by the hour together, and then heave a long low sigh, and hold their breath again.

How slight a thing will disturb the equanimity of our frail minds!

Anything for a quiet life; as the man said when he took the situation at the lighthouse.

There is nothing half so green that I know anywhere, as the grass of that churchyard; nothing half so shady as its trees; nothing half so quiet as its tombstones.

The mists had all solemnly risen now, and the world lay spread before me.

upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful. "Eighteen years!

But his heart was heavy, notwithstanding; and he wished, as he crept into his narrow bed, that that were his coffin, and that he could be lain in a calm and lasting sleep in the churchyard ground, with the tall grass waving gently above his head, and the sound of the old deep bell to soothe him in his sleep.

He stepped aside to the ledge where the vine leaves yet lay strewn about, collected two or three, and stood wiping his hands upon them, with his back to the light.

Try to think not; and 'twill seem better.' 'I've