Quotes About Release

You're right," I say. And then, "It's a little odd to call the market or the system of material release a bottleneck. Why don't we change the word, to . . ." "Constraint?" Stacey suggests. We correct it on the board. Then we just sit there admiring our work.

Change what you can. Accept that which you cannot change. Forgive it all.

All that power they'd squirreled away had needed to be released, focused, channeled.

Kit drew breath in an agony of anticipation, felt Mehiel's surrender in the coldness of his brands.

Twill soon be over, and then we can all get good and thoroughly drunk.

Hating people doesn't accomplish anything except poisoning yourself. I should turn it off. I should let it go. The thing was, first I had to want to let it go.

Elena put one hand out, pressing her palm to the bole of a tree to steady herself, and sighed as if she could put all her pain and worry onto the wind and let it be carried away.

Our patterns and stories, no matter how far back they go, can be surrendered and rewritten. We can walk away from them in any moment. Every choice can be change and every moment is a blank slate. The way things have been does not have to be the way they continue to be.

There is love in holding, and there is love in letting go.

Until everythingwas rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!And I let the fish go.

She cried and he held her and he cried too. He didn't think that either could say what they were crying about, but it was something they needed to do, right now, together, and then, quite suddenly, they were laughing, hard, brash laughter that came up from someplace deep.

A storm was brewing. The wind has picked up and a mass of purple clouds was coming in from the West. It felt good to have my hair whipping around my head. I thought it might feel good to have hail beat down on me. Sometimes storms outside are the only relief for storms inside...

The past can't be changed, can it? It can just be forgiven.

When we hold our thoughts up against God's standards of what is true and what is real, we can recognize and, with His help, learn to release many of our negative emotions, damaging thoughts, and destructive attitudes.

And I've finally learned that no amount of intense, repetitive thinking is ever going to change the past. I've learned what "let it go" means.

Never before had I known the sudden quiver of understanding that travels from word to brain to heart, the way a new language can move, coil, swim into life under the eyes, the almost savage leap of comprehension, the instantaneous, joyful release of meaning, the way the words shed their printed bodies in a flash of heat and light.

You may hold my tears and live as you did before, trusting your soul to no one. Or you may release my tears and accept what comes.

Nothing wrong with you a good roller coaster wouldn't fix.

Let the past go, Bren, or it will ruin your future.

seeking to be free of something and freed to something.

Dying to something old, a pattern that is comfortable in its dysfunction, so that one can move to a different system, a new freedom.

Before the trip I read that pilgrims often bring a small rock or stone from their home. It represents a burden they've been carrying or a loved one they are grieving or a sin for which they're doing penance. At some point on the Camino, they lay down that stone. The most popular place is at the Cruz de Ferro in Spain, the highest point on the Camino Frances.

Bob was not a young man, and he knew about loss. He knew the quiet that arrived, the blinding force of panic, and he knew that each loss brought with it some odd, barely acknowledged sense of release. He was not an especially contemplative person, and he did not dwell on this. But by October there were many days when the swell of rightness, loose-limbedness, and gentle gravity came to him. It recalled to him being a child, when he found one day he could finally color within the lines.

Bob was not a young man, and he knew about loss. He knew the quiet that arrived, the blinding force of panic, and he knew too that each loss brought with it some odd, barely acknowledged sense of release.