Quotes About Water

Blood may be thicker than water, but family has them both beat.

I know how bad a thing it is to be a slave and I know how terrible it was but I don't believe that there's a free person in the whole world that knows how good a cup full of water can taste. Because you have to be a deprived slave, to be kept waiting for your water like we were to really appreciate how good just one swallow can be. When we finally got a drop on our tongues it was like something straight from the hands of the Almighty.

Like the water of a deep stream, love is always too much. We did not make it. Though we drink till we burst, we cannot have it all, or want it all. In its abundance it survives our thirst. In the evening we come down to the shore to drink our fill, and sleep, while it flows through the regions of the dark. It does not hold us, except we keep returning to its rich waters thirsty. We enter, willing to die, into the commonwealth of its joy.

The river, the river itself, leaves marks but bears none. It is only water flowing in a path that other water has worn.

My life had been characterized by emptiness the size of the Sahara but there, in that moment, in the back of that truck in the armpit of Nicaragua, I wondered—for the first time—if there wasn't a river flowing down deep inside me. If so, the water that would cleanse me was not water from my head—where I'd learned to rationalize my indifference. But water from my heart.

Water heals itself. Every time. I like that. And if I'm being honest, maybe I need that.

Hope is not the result of medicine or anything that science has to offer. It is a flower that sprouts and grows when others pour water upon it.

Water)... no matter how wide or deep you cut it...it has no memory. No scar... it's all future, no past.

so, the water that would cleanse me was not water from my head—where I'd learned to rationalize my indifference. But water from my heart.

Hope is not the result of medicine or anything that science has to offer. It is a flower that sprouts and grows when others pour water upon it. I think sometimes that I spent so much time worrying about how to protect and strengthen the flower—even going so far as to graft in a new stem and root system—that I forgot to simply water it.

otherwise. "Agua de mi corazón." I

This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.

He said, "You are lucky to be traveling in a place where a spring is so handy. In my country you can ride for days and see no ground water. I have lapped filthy water from a hoofprint and was glad to have it. You don't know what discomfort is until you have nearly perished for water." Rooster said, "If I ever meet one of you Texas waddies that says he never drank from a horse track I think I will shake his hand and give him a Daniel Webster cigar.

Out of any two thoughts I have, one is devoted to death. Our days an uncertainty, a chaos and shapeless, all that our lives are blurs down, like a landscape reflected in water.

My power, if you can call it that, and I don't think you can, is that I am able to take about two gallons of water from the moisture in the air and shoot it in a stream or a gentle mist. Or a ball. Which is useful for water-balloon fights, but not all that helpful when trying to stop Carnage and Mayhem from robbing a bank.

You were water to me deep and bold and fathoming' - Praise Song For My Mother by Charlotte Mew

About the water, because it all came back to the water, didn't it? It tied it all together: the sanitarium, the rain, the plumbing. The bathtub and a baby,

The obliterated place is equal parts destruction and creation. The obliterated place is pitch black and bright light. It is water and parched earth. It is mud and it is manna. The real work of deep grief is making a home there.

There was only the stillness and silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing began.

It had been so silent in the wake of that commotion, a kind of potent silence that seemed to contain everything. The songs of the birds and the creak of the trees. The dying snow and the unseen gurgling water. The glimmering sun. The certain sky. The gun that didn't have a bullet in its chamber. And the mother. Always the mother. The one who would never come to me.

had beloved friends whom I sometimes referred to as family, but our commitments to each other were informal and intermittent, more familial in word than in deed. Blood is thicker than water, my mother had always said when I was growing up, a sentiment I'd often disputed. But it turned out that it didn't matter whether she was right or wrong. They both flowed out of my cupped palms.

This was once an empty bowl that took hundreds of years to fill. But hard as I tried, I couldn't see them in my mind's eye. Not the mountain or the wasteland or the empty bowl. They simply were not there anymore. There was only the stillness and silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing began.

stillness and silence of that water: what a mountain and a wasteland and an empty bowl turned into after the healing began.

To know that seeing the fish beneath the surface of the water was enough. That it was everything. It was my life—like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me. How wild it was, to let it be.