Quotes About Peace

Do the gods sleep well at night? I think maybe they do.

If we can get everyone all tucked in safe and sound before dawn, all things will be possible.

you either kill your enemies or you leave them the fuck alone.

Perché sei arrabbiata?» Chinai la testa perché aveva ragione. «Non chiederlo, okay? Lascia che il malumore mi passi e proverò anch'io a lasciare che passi.»

We don't have to forget what was done to us, but if we don't forgive it then they still own a piece of our soul. To win back our souls, to be whole, we have to find a way to forgive.

Inside it felt like the hardest thing in the world. To just let go, and not pick everything to death. To just let go and enjoy what you had. To just let go and not make everybody around you miserable with your own internal dialogue. To just let go and be happy. So simple. So difficult. So terrifying.

I'm in a pocket of glowing light, protected from complicated relationships and huge mistakes, past and future.

Right now everything is exactly as it should be.

Amy wondered if Bonaparte could declare war on Miss Gwen alone without breaking his peace with England

It's a virtue to know one's own heart and mind. It saves a lot of bother and a great deal of unhappiness.

Y en tanto un hombre cabalgue sobre su CABALLO DE JUGUETE tranquila y apaciblemente por el camino real sin obligarnos ni a usted ni a mí a montar tras él,—dígame, señor, ¿qué nos importa tal cosa a ninguno de los dos?

To be effortlessly yourself is a blessing, an ambrosia. It is like a few tiny little puffs of opium which lift you ever so slightly off the hard surface of the world.

The one good thing about being kind of shy is that nobody bugs you when you want to be left alone.

I won't take a real nap. I have this halfway place, a rest stop on the road to sleep, where I can stay for hours. I don't even need to close my eyes, just stay safe under the covers and breathe.

Had she ever enjoyed anything? Had every day been a struggle? Perhaps death would be a release, a rest for the weary.

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.

I'm just going to pretend that a very good-smelling, incredibly warm stranger is sitting next to me, a harmless stranger.

My goal is to go home and take a nap.

We'd itch the vermin feasting on our flesh and share the day's many rumors: The King had declared peace. No, the King was sending German and Russian mercenaries to destroy us. A ball of fire as big as a man's head fell from heaven to Hatboro - a good omen. But there'd been an earthquake near York just as a cat gave birth to puppies, which meant the worst.

My bed is sending out serious nap rays.

I have this halfway place, a rest stop on the road to sleep, where I can stay for hours. I don't even need to close my eyes, just stay safe under the covers and breathe.

A wide valley of the dead spread out below me, hundreds of them gently tucked into the ground in neat rows, their whispers frozen into the stones above them: I am here. I was here. Remember me. Remember.

Hawthorne wanted snow to symbolize cold, that's what I think. Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.

But anyways, you let me down, Ken, but I've made my peace with it. With you. With the confused girl-child who used to be me. And Barbie? I've got nothing to say to that bitch. Not till she learns to walk flat-footed, like a real woman.