Quotes About Reflection

In some ways, the whole point of the Exodus was Sabbath. Let my people go, became God's rallying cry, that they might worship me. At the heart of liberty—of being let go—is worship. But at the heart of worship is rest—a stopping from all work, all worry, all scheming, all fleeing—to stand amazed and thankful before God and his work. There can be no real worship without true rest.

I needed to be in the bush. There I find solitude and beauty and purity and focus. That's where my heart lies.

Instantly Nate realized that he couldn't prepare for class as in the past, 'where I could tune in for a minute, say something smart, earn my credit for the day and tune out.

We can think twice, no, three times, before being openly critical, or rude, or angry. In going about the work God gives us, we must treat every person well, regardless of station or potential benefit to us. Let us stay keenly aware of the endless ripple of just being ourselves. For good and bad, we're all in PR.

I wanted to have my own bookstore until I worked in one," [Edward Gorey] reflected in 1998. "Then I thought I'd be a librarian until I met some crazy ones.

God created the church, we have said, so that it might increasingly reflect the character of God as it's been revealed in his Word. In keeping with the storyline of the entire Bible, then, church discipline is the act of excluding an individual who carelessly brings disrepute onto the gospel and shows no commitment to doing otherwise.

A healthy church is a congregation that increasingly reflects God's character as his character has been revealed in his Word.

But in a still life, there is no end to our looking, which has become allied with the gaze of the painter; we look in and in, to the world of things, in their ambiance of cool or warm light, in and in, as long as we can stand to look, as long as we take pleasure in looking.

Say what you see and you experience yourself through your style of seeing and saying.

However much grief I carried, I liked the way my life was tending, these bright new directions. It's only human, to mourn and to reach toward forwardness at once.

Don't go in fear of that which has been looked at again and again. Poets return to the MOON immemorially; it is deeply compelling and we probably won't ever get done with it. The challenge is to look at the familiar without the expected scaffolding of seeing, and the payoff is that such a gaze feels enormously rewarding; it wakes us up, when the old verities are dusted off, the tired approaches set aside.

Does the poem reside in experience or in self-consciousness about experience?

We live the stories we tell; the stories we don't tell live us.

As great poets do, he found a way to transmute the personal wound into something larger.

In the book, he said, the self is fixed, made concrete; the book is the intersection of the soul and time.

What does being on earth ask of us? The world wants to be rescued from evanescence, to be translated into an immaterial realm that does not perish because it was never exactly alive. To become, in other words, poetry--either in the poem the poet writes out of engagement with things, or in the interior "poem" of anyone who loves the world, the never-said words we come, over time, to carry within us.

Remember our definition of a winning attitude: a positive expectation of your efforts with an acceptance that whatever results you get are a perfect reflection of your level of development and what you need to learn to do better.

Perhaps in time, Ella, the words we have lost will fade, and we will all stop summoning them by habit, only to stamp them out like unwanted toadstools when they appear. Perhaps they will eventually disappear altogether, and the accompanying halts and stammers as well: those troublesome, maddening pauses that at present invade and punctuate through caesura all manner of discourse. Trying so desperately we all are, to be ever so careful.

Lately, I haph startet painting my torso in pretty, motley hews. I sit in phront oph the mirror in the sleepy-room. I atmire my hantyworg. I am a hooman apstrat paining.

We are, when it comes right down to it, all of us: mere monkeys at typewriters. (...) low order primate elevated to high order ecclesiastical primate, elevated still further in these darkest last days to ultimate prime A grade superior being. For doing that, which my father did without thinking.

Why, oh why had he taken up Debbie's offer of a free personal training session, and today of all days? There was no way he was going to get ripped abs by this evening, and the muscles he suspected he'd torn in his lower back were hardly the same thing.

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

The evil is not in extremes It's in the aftermath

but writing as "Lewis Carroll," had Alice go through the looking