Quotes About Patience

If you have a difficult decision to make, never force it, Rob had told his boys. Weigh each alternative singly, without prejudice. If they seem to balance evenly, no advantage one way or the other, do not be deceived. There is an advantage one way or the other. If you wait long enough, it will become apparent to you and suddenly the decision will be made without difficulty, and it will be right.

Also I wanted to be able to love And we all know how that one goes, don't we? Slowly

Things take the time they take. Don't worry. How many roads did St. Augustine follow before he became St. Augustine?

A Thousand Mornings All night my heart makes its way however it can over the rough ground of uncertainties, but only until night meets and then is overwhelmed by morning, the light deepening, the wind easing and just waiting, as I too wait (and when have I ever been disappointed?) for redbird to sing

For some things there are no wrong seasons. Which is what I dream of for me.

I cherish two sentences and keep them close to my desk. The first is by Flaubert. I came upon it among Van Gough's letters. It says, simply, 'Talent is long patience, and originality an effort of will and of intense observation.

Little Crazy Love Song" I don't want eventual, I want soon. It's 5 a.m. It's noon. It's dusk falling to dark. I listen to music. I eat up a few wild poems while time creeps along as though it's got all day. This is what I have. The dull hangover of waiting, the blush of my heart on the damp grass, the flower-faced moon. A gull broods on the shore where a moment ago there were two. Softly my right hand fondles my left hand as though it were you.

I did think, let's go about this slowly. This is important. This should take some really deep thought. We should take small thoughtful steps. But, bless us, we didn't.

So, be slow if you must, but let the heart still play its true part. Love still as once you loved, deeply and without patience. Let God and the world know you are grateful.That the gift has been given.

It does no good to bark at the television, I said. I've tried it too. So he stopped.

The Gift Be still, my soul, and steadfast. Earth and heaven both are still watching though time is draining from the clock and your walk, that was confident and quick, has become slow. So, be slow if you must, but let the heart still play its true part. love still as once you loved, deeply and without patience. Let God and the world know you are grateful. That the gift has been given.

Admiring is easy, but affinity, that does take some time.

Things take the time they take. Don't worry.

Who can guess the impatience of stone to be ground down, to be a part of something livelier?

God, rest in my heart and fortify me, take away my hunger for answers

For some things there are no wrong seasons. Which is what I dream for me.

Dear Bear, it's no use, the world is like that. So stay where you are, and live long. Someday maybe we'll wise up and remember what you were: hopeless ambassador of a world that returns now only in poets' dreams.

I have been thinking about living like the lilies that blow in the fields. They rise and fall in the wedge of the wind, and have no shelter from the tongues of the cattle, and have no closets or cupboards, and have no legs. Still I would like to be as wonderful as that old idea. But if I were a lily I think I would wait all day for the green face of the hummingbird to touch me. What I mean is, could I forget myself even in those feathery fields?

think of this every day. I think of it when I meet the turtle with its patient green face, or hear the hawk's tin-tongued skittering cry, or watch the otters at play in the pond. I am blood and bone however that happened, but I am convictions of my singular experience and my own thought, and they are made greatly of the hours of the earth, rough or smooth, but never less than intimate, poetic, dreamy, adamant, ferocious, loving, life-shaping.

Let them imitate and imitate - and learn and learn. ...who has not seen a young painter in a museum intently copying a Vermeer or a van Gogh, and believing himself on the way to learning something valuable? Emotional freedom, the integrity and special quality of one's work - are not first things, but final things. Only the patient and diligent, as well as the inspired, get there.

What we must do, I suppose, is to hope the world keeps its balance; what we are to do, however, with our hearts waiting and watching-truly I do not know.

I'm older than I used to be, and therefore I understand things nobody would think of who's young and in a hurry.

almost every poem in the universe moves too slowly.

Thus the great ones (my great ones, who may not be the same as your great ones) have taught me -- to observe with passion, to think with patience, to live always care-ingly.