Quotes About Inexpressible

for poets, at least, experiencing something inexpressible does not mean silence. It's precisely the inexpressible something that poetry is meant to help us see or feel. If it were merely expressible - if there were nothing ineffable about it - there would be no need for a poem. But everywhere in the Bible we meet reality that exceeds our expectations.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 PETER 1 : 8 – 9

unspeakable.

The deep pain that is felt at the death of every friendly soul arises from the feeling that there is in every individual something which is inexpressible, peculiar to him alone, and is, therefore, absolutely and irretrievably lost.

I don't think you can define love.

She nodded silently, unable to name as joy any part of the things she felt.

I'll walk forever with stories inside me that the people I love the most can never hear.

Never say love is "like" anything... It isn't.

Love is something so divine, Description would but make it less; 'Tis what I feel, but can't define, 'Tis what I know but can't express

An enormous part of our mature experience cannot not be expressed in words.

Lamantia is faith building, encouraging poetry in that it abstractly hugs you by finally capturing the inexpressible. It's an experience similar to relief, reading his poems.

You never read about the real pain. It lives where no word can travel.

The same inexpressible Truth is experienced in two ways: as Self-luminous Silence, or as the Eternal Play of the One.

Stephen's face lost its tension, and I remember thinking how easy it is to speak in clichés, to steal a line from pulp fiction and let it fall. We can only hover around the inexpressible with our words anyway, and there is comfort in saying what we have heard before.

Love is an emotion. Totally silent and inexpressible with words.

Encontrar palavras impossíveis, palavras que refletem sentimentos belos e intraduzíveis, daquelas que precisavam de um parágrafo inteiro em castelhano. Quando um dos dois encontrava uma palavra, oferecia-a ao outro como um tesouro. E logo agora, como o sopro do vento através das nuvens, uma das suas favoritas acabava de se materializar à sua frente, uma linha prateada, trémula, imperfeita. Mångata.

Gratitude is one of the least articulate of the emotions, especially when it is deep.

Besides being the world the kind of sadness that can not be expressed in tears. You can not explain it to anyone. Unable to take any shape, settles quietly in the bottom of the heart as snow during the windless night.

There was nothing I could say, so I said nothing.

Putting it into words will destroy any meaning.

En este mundo existe un tipo de tristeza que no te permite verter lágrimas. Es una de esas cosas que no puedes explicar a nadie y, aunque pudieras, nadie te comprendería. Y esa tristeza, sin cambiar de forma, va acumulándose en silencio en tu corazón como la nieve durante una noche sin viento.

I remember thinking how easy it is to speak in clichés, to steal a line from pulp fiction and let it fall. We can only hover around the inexpressible with our words anyway, and there is comfort in saying what we have heard before.

In all perception of the truth there is a divine ecstasy, an inexpressible delirium of joy, as when a youth embraces his betrothed virgin.

If a wound is great you cannot turn it into something that is spoken, it can barely be written.