Quotes About Awareness

His eye is on the sparrowAnd I know He watches me.

That bastard c'n spot a gnat from three miles off, an' then read its mind.

I was not aware of being alone; I could not feel it. I needed those I loved, it did not occur to me that those I loved did not need me. But now my eyes were open, and misfortune had already let mistrust enter my soul.

Samantha Dunn] wrote that when God wants your attention, first He throws feathers. After that, He starts throwing bricks.

My relationship with God has evolved as well. I no longer rail or beg or sass back. I was standing on a bluff over the ocean the other day and suddenly laughed out loud as I realized what an illusion that was, what an impossibility. That would assume a relationship between a "me" and "Other," a separation. There is no otherness; to be separate from God is to be separate from myself, from life itself. What I've been looking for, I'm looking with.

Some wounds are invisible. It doesn't mean they're not real.

My heart feels not so much in my chest as in my hands. I am carrying it along swiftly, as though I have become the messenger for what is going on inside me.

Why were the things that were closest so often the hardest to see?

Neither one of us talks, the way people sometimes don't when they are happy – but as soon as I have this thought, I realise its opposite is also true.

I will learn fifteen types of wind and know the weight of tomorrow's rain by the rustle in the sycamores.

Where does thinking get us?' she said. 'All thinking does is bring you down.

That's the way it is in our house, everybody knowing things but pretending they don't.

What would life be like, he wondered, if they were given time to think and reflect over things? Might their lives be different or much the same – or would they just lose the run of themselves?

She sometimes found herself standing in the barn watching her fowl pecking the seed, feeling happy until she realised she wasn't.

and before tomorrow was coming to an end, he knew his mind would already be working in much the same way, yet again, over the day that was to follow.

Kinsella says a few meaningless things along the way then falls into the quiet way he has about him, and time passes without seeming to pass

But can someone tell you you're in love? Or do you just have to know it at a gut level? And if you can't identify it, does it even really exist?

We were alone in the dark, even though the enormous theater was filled with probably a thousand people. We were a tiny island in a sea of other people who didn't matter, who had no meaning, who were so stupid, so oblivious, so stuck in their own boring lives that they didn't even notice the huge, momentous, life-shattering event that was taking place right there in row L, between seats 102 and 104.

Every guy seems nice until he's not.

Once aware of my isolation, I was afraid not of it but of its interruption.

It was one of those moments when life's disguises are stripped away, when you see clearly what is real, and all you can say to yourself is "useful to get that learned.

Just because something is invisible doesn't mean it isn't there. At any given time, there are a host of invisibles floating among us. There are clairvoyants to see ghosts; but who sees the invisible emotions, the unrecorded events? Who is that sees love, more evanescent than any ghost, let alone can catch it? Who are you tell me that I don't know what love is?

My grandad used to tell me that if you want to get up-close and personal with birds, you must sit and remain still for at least twenty minutes.

Birdwatching is also the perfect entry point to rekindle our innate bond with the natural world