Quotes About Serenity

What comes, comes, why bark?

He'd never slept with Molly before. Before, the bed had been a place of brief coming together and of leaving. It felt god to lie beside her with the early sun beyond the window and the cabin full of qiet. It was peaceful and healing to be with her and not be cut apart by guilt.

The air was still, like a held breath.

Every heart wants to find peace. In the end, that is the place the Creator takes us.

He was thinking about what his father had said, how the quiet of the morning was something he had almost entirely to himself, something he would come to appreciate. It was true. On the streets of Aurora in that early hour, he was almost always alone. Sometimes lights were on in a room, usually a kitchen, or on rare occasions, a car might drift past, but he and Jackson owned the sidewalks and the morning was his.

I've learned across the whole of my life is that it's only when I yield to the river and embrace the journey that I find peace.

Meloux closed his eyes, lifted his face to the sun, breathed deeply. "That is all of life," the old Mide said quietly. "What?" Stephen asked. "Letting go of the questions. Letting go of the fear that there will be no answers." "Will there be answers?" "What we believe we want is like knocking on a closed door. Better to open ourselves to what we have and what we know. The beauty of this moment.

the sky, settling in

In a summer season when soft was the sun.

There's a place you can get to. It's hard to find and it's easy to fall out of, but there it is, that place. It is the sweetest place you've never been and it's called I Don't Give a Crap. Book yourself a ticket.

We talked about this before. The rare beauty of nonattachment.

A feast of smooth oblivion.

Why art thou come, man of despair and blood! To these green vales and streams, o'erhung with wood; These hills, where, far from life's discordant throng, The lonely goat-maid chaunts her matin song; This sylvan glen, where age in peace reclines, Soothed by the whisper of his native pines; Where, in the twilight of his closing days, Upon the glimmering lake he loves to gaze; And, like his life, sees on the shadowy flood, The still, sweet eve descending!

A cat pours his body on the floor like water.

A sane being wished for peace and serenity, not to be the mortar in which the ingredients of destiny are finely ground.

Petals floating by, Drift through my womans hand, As she remembers me.

Dick and Tot walked down the lane together, deep in a conversation of silence.

He tidies away abandoned things, like scraps of quarrel, or pieces of spite. He banishes small troubles, makes ghosts happy, soothes tired curtains, charms kettles into singing, and stops milk sulking.

The world belongs to the enthusiast who keeps cool.

Dunia adalah milik orang bersemangat yang bisa menjaga ketenangannya.

Siempre he envidiado a las personas que se duermen con facilidad. Sus cerebros deben de estar más limpios, los suelos del cráneo bien barridos, y todos los pequeños monstruos de la mente encerrados en un baúl a los pies de la cama.

I've always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.

Hope had finally learned to live in the present. Often, when she found herself in a space of tremendous comfort, usually out in nature, or when her children were safe all around her and on the verge of going to bed, she forced herself to take stock. Here you are, Hope, she told herself. What a beautiful moment. You may never again be here at this spot, enjoying the calm. This habit of hers, to acknowledge the immediate and elusive joy of the present, kept her sane.

Because they're free. -They might look free, but they aren't. Believe me. You're free. -How am I free? -You're free to be modest. You're free to not smoke up. You're free to be here and listen and not respond to the nonsense that Hanna spouts. You're very calm, and you're very comfortable with yourself.