Quotes About Peace

Violence is what happens when we don't know what else to do with our suffering.

The sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room.

The sky darkened, the air grew colder, but he didn't mind. It didn't occur to him to move. This was the right place. This was where he had wanted to be.

in my experience men are curiously blind to aggression in women. They're the warriors, with their helmets and armour, their swords and spears, and they don't seem to see our battles—or they prefer not to. Perhaps if they realized we're not the gentle creatures they take us for their own peace of mind would be disturbed?

Any explanation of war neurosis must account for the fact that this apparently intensely masculine life of war and danger and hardship produced in men the same disorders that women suffered from in peace. So

in my experience, men are curiously blind to aggression in women. They're the warriors, with their helmets and armor, their swords and spears, and they don't seem to see our battles - or they prefer not to. Perhaps if they realised we're not the gentle creatures they take us for, their own peace of mind would be disturbed?

My soul found ease and rest in the companionship of books.

Love has no weapons; it has no fists. Love does not bruise, nor does it draw blood.

It ratified a theory of mine that great writing could sneak up on you, master of a thousand disguises: prodigal kinsman, messenger boy, class clown, commander of artillery, altar boy, lace maker, exiled king, peacemaker, or moon goddess.

On its own, my spirit seemed to relax, like a folding chair let out by a pool.

I was afforded a glimpse of the marsh at ease, a glimpse of the land at rest from the penetration and mindless barbarisms of man.

the world needs more roses far more than it needs more basketball players.

Few things rivet me like the beauty of moving water.

I want to be lovely in death...

The house was still as northern woods in winter, when all the creatures are gone.

Randy felt relieved. He looked out over the river, contemplating his ignorance of women and the peace of evening.

Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart.

No song, no peace, no poetry, no end of days, and no forgetting.

She was a sweet, warm wind in my heart, a resting place, a place of peace where I could forget so many things . . .

That sleep that has no language, No dream, No time, No end.

Imagine me maintaining anybody's equilibrium.

We seek retreats for ourselves, houses in the country, seashores, mountains. But . . . we have in our power to retire into ourselves. For there is no retreat that is quieter and freer from trouble than our soul . . . perfect tranquility, the right ordering of mind. —Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

No wonder that, to a writer—to readers, to so many beset people now—solitude suggests not loneliness, but serenity, that kissing cousin of sanity.

what is the foundation of contemplative life? 'Oh, she said, without a pause -- leisure, it's based on leisure.