Quotes About Angels

VCs, angels and other networks help you validate your ideas.

I though, So this is how they send the angel. Stalled at the age when she loved you most.

During the night, angels stared down through the stars into Jacob's world. They watched him sleep. They commented on the way his body folded on the bed. They liked this man. They drew their wings over him and stood guard by his soul.

She heard music. Angels singing? she thought, dizzy. It seemed odd for angels to sing after table sex. She managed to swallow on a throat wildly dry. Music, she murmured. My phone. In my pants. Don't care. Oh. Not angels. No. Def Leppard.

She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed

Angels have very nasty tempers. Especially when they're feeling righteous.

A young farm labourer passed me. I suddenly understood what Traherne meant when he said that men looked to him like angels. Again, it was a matter of seeing through to the inward vitality, the essence—what Boehme called the 'signature'. I smiled at the farm labourer, and he smiled back and said: 'Mornin' sir.' I felt suddenly very happy.

For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.

The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory." In

The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory

I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

Mind you, sometimes the angels smoke, hiding it with their sleeves, and when the archangel comes, they throw the cigarettes away: that's when you get shooting stars.

I hope you will love your baby. I hope it will be a boy. That husband of yours, I hope, will always treat you well, because otherwise my specter shall come out of him, like black smoke, like a demented giant, and pull him apart nerve by nerve. ...I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this is the only immortality you and I may share, my Lolita.

I'm thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art, And this is the only immortality that you and I may share, my Lolita.

Sometimes, though, angels smoke-in their sleeves. But when the archangel goes by, they throw their cigarettes away: This is what falling stars are.

Penso agli uri e agli angeli, al segreto dei pigmenti duraturi, ai sonetti profetici, al rifugio dell'arte. E questa è la sola immortalità che tu e io possiamo condividere, mia Lolita.

Don't fight alone. Get the higher and wider voice to fight with you. Identify your detractors and supporters—forget the middle—and strive to create a win-win outcome for both. But move quickly. Isolate your detractors by building a broader coalition with your angels before a battle begins. In this way, you will discourage the war before it has a chance to start or gain steam.

Angels and demons, vampires and lycans, all set against an inventive, intriguing story world that hooked me from the first page. Balancing action and romance, humor and hot sensuality, Sylvia Day's storytelling dazzles. I can't wait to read more about this league of sexy, dangerous guardian angels and the fascinating world they inhabit. A Touch of Crimson is a paranormal romance lover's feast!

Fallen angels are traitorous scum who weren't meant to breed. They and their emim offspring deserve to be slaughtered." What a tool. If Zhubaal were anywhere but here, he'd lob a ball of acid fire at Ricky Bobby's haloed head. "You know I'm a fallen angel, right?" He gestured to himself. "I mean, I'm standing right here.

You people are so damned stupid," Revenant said. "That's why angels always take it up the ass against fallen angels. Ever watch Spaceballs ? Explains it perfectly. Evil will always triumph because Good is dumb." Revenant grinned and waggled his brow. "Fortunately for you, I'm evil. Let's go.

Si los ángeles pueden matar, ¿por qué nosotros no podemos amar?

Por qué? ¿Acaso crees que los demonios no podemos sentir afecto? Somos seres racionales y experimentamos emociones complejas. Si los ángeles pueden matar, ¿por qué nosotrso no podemos amar?

Los ángeles no amaban, porque aquel tipo de emociones hacían que perdiesen objetividad. Y, por descontado, los ángeles no amaban a los humanos. Pero allí, en Gorlian, con Bran, todo aquello parecía haber quedado muy atrás.

Soy una guerrera, pero eso no es lo habitual en mi pueblo. Los ángeles somos, fundamentalmente, observadores. No intervenimos en asuntos humanos salvo cuando éstos amenazan con alterar el equilibrio.