Quotes About Awe

Kids are something. All they can see is the beauty in a moment.

But once, a cardinal alighted on the kitchen windowsill and he found himself squinting long after it had flown away again, trying hard to hold on to its beauty.

Trust me, there are things in this mountain that will make your jaw bounce off the floor.

che c'entra questo con le stelle? What has this to do with the stars?

Ma dire «tu» è essere colpiti e stupefatti dalla bellezza, dalla verità, ed è lì che incomincia la vita vera: la vita vera incomincia da un positivo, non da un negativo, non da un sacrificio.

siempre lo que sucede en la realidad es más impresionante de lo que uno cree de lo que uno se imagina que pueda ser

Wonder feeds our best intelligence and is perhaps its source.

When we finish a book, why do we hold it in both hands and gaze at it as if it were somehow alive?

All you had to do was look up at the stars at night or at a baby's face to know God existed.

They have no awe left in them for the little marvels. All their wonder has turned to appetite.

He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonder.

No one could remain an atheist with larks around, he thought dreamily.

He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonderful.

One man's ugliness can blind another to the world's magic.

where we could see the stars. "Whoa," I said. "Isn't it beautiful?" "It's like . . . ," I said. "It's like a squid in love with the sky.

Young Dmitri was impressed.

As the bulb of black cloud, lit by both sun and flame, hovered above the storehouses, the people of Leningrad looked on in choked awe. "It was an immense spectacle of stunning beauty," wrote Lyubov Shaporina. The air smelled sweet as tons of sugar burned.

For who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty?

He admired the world like a jewel, turning its facets to catch the light.

Will you be here? For I have never known such a wondrous thing in all my life as you." I had stood beside my father's light. I had held Aeetes in my arms, and my bed was heaped with thick-wooled blankets woven by immortal hands. But it was not until that moment that I think I had ever been warm.

I had the impulse to look over my shoulder, to make sure he was not striding across the sky already, his gilded arrow pointed at my heart. But there was something in me that was sick of fear and awe, of gazing at the heavens and wondering what someone would allow me. 'Come in,' I said, and led him through my door.

It was one of my favorite things about him, how he admired the world like a jewel, turning its facets to catch the light. A well-made boat, a well-grown tree, a well-told story, these were all pleasures to him.

He was beautiful - like a god, the poets would say.

who can be ashamed to lose to such beauty? It was enough to watch him win, to see the soles of his feet flashing as they kicked up sand, or the rise and fall of his shoulders as he pulled through the salt. It was enough. I