Quotes About Angels

The lights of prayer that make us imagine we are beginning to be angels are sometimes only signs that we are finally beginning to be men. We do not have a high enough opinion of our own nature. We think we are at the gates of heaven and we are only just beginning to come into our own realm as free and intelligent beings.

The ultimate perfection of the contemplative life is not a heaven of separate individuals, each one viewing his own private intuition of God; it is a sea of Love which flows through the One Body of all the elect, all the angels and saints, and their contemplation would be incomplete if it were not shared, or if it were shared with fewer souls, or with spirits capable of less vision and less joy.

Why is your equation only for angels, Roger? Why can't we do something, down here? Couldn't there be an equation for us too, something to help us find a safer place?' 'Why am I surrounded,' his usual understanding self today, 'by statistical illiterates? There's no way, love, not as long as the mean density of strikes is constant.

She waited, guttering with a small meek defiance, standing at the window and trembling, moonlight from a high angle pouring over her naked back, casting on it shadows of her shoulder blades, like healed stumps of wings ritually amputated once long ago, for some transgression of the Angels' Code.

But the word "change" is not a blank check for self-indulgence— least of all self-indulgence in the notion that disparities imply villainy, which in turn implies a crusade on the side of the angels against the forces of evil, despite how self-flattering such a vision of the world might be.

Excerpts from the Angel Handbook Be careful how you unfold your wings -- there are some in the world who are not content unless their teeth are full of feathers ... You will meet some whose faces give a glw as if they once had halos: these are the lovers, you will make a lot of love and your flights, even though you are careful to keep them invisible, will make those who love you sad: they will not understand that you never go anyplace you're not meant to be.

Here's a nice Irish saying for you: May neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, the angels protect you, and Heaven accept you.

Angels fly because they take themselves lightly." And she taught me that there is always a way around a problem—you've just got to find it. Keep trying doors; one will eventually open. She also taught me to accept failure as part and parcel of life. It's not the opposite of success; it's an integral part of success.

HEAVENS NEED FURNACES Heavens need furnaces, The factories where dross converts to light gasses. The sloughed skins of dreams are instant fuel, remarkably full of oil like creosote bushes. Your worst losses warm angels; despair puts a glint on God's hair. And the nicest surprise is the substance that rises when you know you can't get there from here.

Angels told me you're the poison, and always have been. Said you used God as an excuse to hurt people, includin' your own kin.

You'll wrest a burning sword from an angel, but you're afraid of bats?" "I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them. They're...furry. Flying things shouldn't be furry. It's not right. And if I ever meet the Creator, I'm taking that one up with him." "That I'd like to see. Your one and possible only chance to get the answer to every question in the universe, and you ask, 'Why are bats furry?'" "I will. You just wait.

3And in those days a whirlwind carried me off from the earth, and set me down at the end of the heavens. 4There I saw another vision, the dwelling-places of the holy and the righteous. 5Here my eyes saw their dwellings with His righteous angels and the holy. And they asked, interceded, and prayed for the children of men, and righteousness flowed before them like water, and mercy like dew upon the earth. Thus it is among them forever.

Do I not deal with angelsWhen her lips I touch.

Man thrives where angels die of ecstasy and pigs die of disgust.

The fact is prosperity has a purpose. It's to allow us to pursue "the better angels," to give us time to think and grow.

Entertaining angels unawares: It is always we who are to entertain the angels, and never they us. I cannot, however, think that an angel would be a very entertaining person, either as guest or host.

Though women are angels, yet wedlock's the devil.

So I repeat, that which I thought was the road to hell is strewn with angels. That which seemed dismally cursed held a thread of light. On this narrow thread, stretched like a tightrope, we all balance. Umbrella held high, one foot in front of the other, fearless dancers at the end of this millennium hover above the abyss. Down below, a web of wings cushions our fall.

Our trials, our troubles, our demons, our angels—we reenact them because these stories explain our lives. Literature's lessons repeat because they echo from deeper places.

Look, Winged Wonder. Get me out of here, then we'll hammer out the details about where I'm staying. Okay?" "Winged Wonder," he said, nodding. "I find that I do not mind that one. It fits." "Captain Modesty fits better," she muttered. "I disagree. Winged Wonder is clearly the better choice for a man such as me." -Annabelle and Zacharel

How do we thank an angel? Somehow I don't think a fruit basket will do the trick." ~ Amun

Sienna, meet Zacharel. He's a warrior angel for the One, True Deity. Zacharel, meet Sienna. She's mine.

Can I stay with the other angel, then? The blond." Thane? "Why?" he demanded. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I like him better than I like you." There was a right way to take that statement? Honesty was to be commended, and yet Zacharel suddenly battled an inexplicable need to shake her. "You cannot know who you like better. You only spent a few seconds in his company." "Sometimes a few seconds is all it takes." -Annabelle and Zacharel

Why does no one speak of the cultural advantages of the country? For example, is a well groomed, ecologically kept, sustainably fertile farm any less cultural, any less artful, than paintings of fat angels on church ceilings?