Quotes About Angels

Twenty-three stories up and all I could see out the windows was grey smog. They could call it the City of the Angels if they wanted to, but if there were angels out there, they had to be flying blind.

I like to think that Irving is somewhere chasing angelic speedboats, or maybe he's got his own wings. Surely, even God needs a laugh now and then, and Irving is a funny guy, for a monster.

Well it was one of those days Larger than life When your friends came to dinner And they stayed the night And then they cleaned out the refrigerator And ate everything in sight And then they stayed up in the livingroom And cried all night Strange angels Singing just for me Old stories Haunting me This is nothing Like I thought it would be . . . .

What did it feel like to die? Was it a peaceful sleep? Some thought it was full of either trumpet-blowing angels or angry devils. Perhaps I was already dead.

But sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in.

The more materialistic science becomes, the more angels shall I paint. Their wings are my protest in favor of the immortality of the soul.

The trend today is vampires, zombies, angels, all the stuff that puts me right to sleep. It's too bad because it's so much less interesting than the diversity of stories you can tell with science.

the Z-particle Pure energy—no mass at all. It may well be thesmallest building block in nature. Matter is nothing but trapped energy.

Whenever science makes a discovery the devil grabs it while the angels are debating the best way to use it.

When a smile touches our hearts. When the forest stills us to peace. When music moves us to rapture. When we really love, laugh or dance with joy. We are at one with the Angels.

The prison guards are capable of committing daily atrocities and obscenities, smiling the smile of the angels all the while.

Without the extension and/or transcendence of self-love, survival is not the kind of survival that sets humans apart from the beasts (and--never forget it--the angels).

So this is death, observed Eddie. He felt his shoulder-blades, passed a hand above his head. No wings. No halo, either. Guess we didn't make the grade as angels.

the precedence of faith over knowledge. "When at Sinai Israel said we shall do and we shall hear (instead of saying, we shall hear and we shall do), a heavenly voice went forth and exclaimed,"Who has revealed to My children this mystery, which the ministering angels enact, to fulfill His word before they hear the voice."1

all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.

Don't fall. It seems we've struggled for so long. We've trampled on the backs of apes to clutch the muddied hems of angels.

It is the Christmas time: And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth, In glorious grief and solemn mirth, The shining angels climb.

In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there. To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe. I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels.

Wherever suffering raised its ugly head, these angels of compassion could be found—in a home, in a relationship, or when mankind decided its conflicts on some forgotten piece of land turned into a graveyard with weapons of war.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John The bed be blest that I lie on. Four angels to my bed. Four angels round my head. One to watch and one to pray, And two to bear my soul away.

When the devil comes, he comes on angel's wings.

In the contemplation of nudes, we congratulate ourselves upon the beauty of which human beings are capable. They reassure us about ourselves, about Being. We are a little lower than the angels, true, but notice that we can get along without that suspect radiance, equal parts paint and literature, on which the angels lean so heavily. The human body is, or can be, a sufficiency.

The death of God left the angels in a strange position.

The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie, For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.