Quotes About Reflection

Pino couldn't help thinking that he had just had the best evening of his life at the tail end of the worst day of his life. He'd experienced every emotion possible in a span of twelve hours, from horror to grief to kissing Anna.

our job in life is to endure, to be kind, and to constantly put the past behind us and not dwell too much on the future. If you must look back, try to find the beauty and the benefit in every cruelty done to you. If you must think about the future, try to have no expectations about it. Trust in God to guide you through. You

I have come to believe after eighty-one years on this earth that our job in life is to endure, to be kind, and to constantly put the past behind us and not dwell too much on the future.

You start by looking right around you for the blessings you have. When you find them, be grateful

She told me once that she believed that life does not happen to you; it happens for you, and that your whole life is a blessed journey of discovery. But you can only see life clearly and relish it when the journey is almost at an end.

I have come to believe after eighty-one years on this earth that our job in life is to endure, to be kind, and to constantly put the past behind us and not dwell too much on the future. If you must look back, try to find the beauty and the benefit in every cruelty done to you. If you must think about the future, try to have no expectations about it. Trust in God to guide you through. You understand?

future, that she tried to live moment by moment, looking for reasons to be grateful, trying to create her own happiness and grace, and to use them as a means to a good life in the present and not a goal to be achieved

He'd just sit down, shut his eyes, make this little smile, breathe deep and slow for ten minutes. And then he'd be fine and go back to work. Finally, I asked Kumar if he was praying. He said, no, he was meditating. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. He said praying was where you talk to God. And meditation was where you listen.

I failed you," Pino choked. "Christmas Eve, you were there to stand by me, come what may. And I wasn't there for you. I . . . I don't know why. I can't even explain it to myself. I wish I'd stood against the wall with you, Anna.

In early February 2006, I was forty-seven and at the lowest point of my life.

He says to give thanks for every day, no matter how flawed. And to have faith in God and a better tomorrow." Anna smiled.

What possesses men to do such evil? Are they even human? Can't they see that when you kill someone or destroy a holy place, the faith always goes on? Don't they see that in broken hearts and ruins, something always glows?

live moment by moment, looking for reasons to be grateful, trying to create her own happiness and grace, and to use them as a means to a good life in the present and not a goal to be achieved some other day. Anna's

like your friend Mrs. Kantor, we'll be able to see the beauty in every cruelty we've had to endure. Even this moment.

He said praying was where you talk to God. And meditation was where you listen.

The most common kind of zine is the personal zine, created by individuals reflecting on their everyday lives-confessional, sometimes mundane, containing even scandalous writings.

remembering what I had forgotten; of rediscovering what had been submerged under mental clutter.

Spirituality is about seeing, waking up out of a deep sleep, remembering what

was mentally creating a God in the image and likeness of humans.

How sad. I've just had a walk down The Grange and passed an angry old man from my old church. He just turned round, stood, and glared, shaking his head at me. I don't understand why people are sometimes so hostile and never seem to be able to let go. This poor chap and many like him have attended church every week of their lives, and yet it seems to have had no impact whatsoever on their characters. Alas, it is a mystery indeed.

I am made of pieces and of the spaces between them where other pieces used to be. I am a landscape of loss. Most of me is the memory of where else, and who else, and with whom, I have been and no longer am.

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been.

It is a time when one's spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death.

New Year's is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions.