Quotes About Lost

When you can not find someone, it is because you've been misdirected to look elsewhere

I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by almost everyone.

Has anyone seen my brain? It ran off flailing and screaming about being overwhelmed this morning. I'd really like it back.

The scientific theory I like best is that the rings of Saturn are composed entirely of lost airline luggage.

Let your heart be your compass, your mind your map, your soul your guide... and you will never get lost.

I realized it was like a dating agency: the ions are the lost souls looking for mates; the electrolyte is the agency that can help them find each other.

If you lament: my nature, my entire being is without salvation, and I must be lost forever, then the message of Christmas answers: your nature, your entire being has been accepted; Jesus bears it, so he has become your Savior.

We were displaced persons, but it was time more than space that defined us. While the distance to return to our lost country was far but finite, the number of years it would take to close that distance was potentially infinite. Thus, for displaced people, the first question was always about time: When can I return?

Confuse your trail, lose your trail.

Life's a journey for everybody but somebody has stolen my map.

Above all, it tells us that man is to serve and worship God, that man is lost until he finds his place in the Creator through Jesus Christ, and that those who know God can possess the assurance that he has found the source, the purpose, and the rock of his existence.

If the word of God is not absorbed by the mind through understanding, it is likely to be lost, like how a dream may slip away after one wakes up in the morning. It can be as if the person has never heard God's word at all.

Sairei de mim mesmo em busca de mim mesmo, em busca de minha imagem perdida nos abismos do desespero, minha imagem de cuja face já não me lembro mais…

Hey, there, little fella!" he called. I looked at him uncertainly. What kind of a person was this? What would those hands be like? Would they push me aside, like the first man I had known? Or would they be patient and gentle? "You lost, fella? You lost?" I wasn't sure about the hands yet, but the voice was kind. And he was talking right to me. The first man had never done that. And he'd never kneeled down so that he was close to my level, either.

Every farthing of the cost,All the dreaded cards foretell,Shall be paid, but from this nightNot a whisper, not a thought,Not a kiss nor look be lost.

This melancholy London — I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually.

The old bottles lay dreaming of new wine. I picked up my breast, which had gone out. By other lights I go looking for yours Through the standing harvest of my lost arrows...

We are asleep with compasses in our hands.

People say conversation is a lost art; how often I have wished it were.

We had lost the art of communication - but not, alas, the gift of speech.

Our society has lost confidence in the power of reason, except perhaps scientific reason.

I know that life is a doorway to eternity, and yet my heart so often gets lost in petty anxieties. It forgets the great way home that lies before it.

I realized it was like a dating agency: the ions are the lost souls looking for mates; the electrolyte is the agency that can help them find each other.

Church growth strategies are the death gurgle of a church that has lost its way.