Quotes About Soul

The man who would prefer great wealth or strength             more than love, more than friends, is diseased of soul.

Para mi quiero, antes que un rico, un Pobre que tenga un alma grande.

Para mí quiero, antes que un rico, un Pobre que tenga un alma grande.

Los mortales deberían contraer entre sí sentimientos amorosos moderados, sin llegar hasta los tuétanos del alma, y los afectos del corazón deberían ser fáciles de desatar para rechazarlos o apartarlos

The vision fades, the soul sickens, and the routine of survival starts again.

any one who has been to an English public school will always feel comparatively at home in prison. It is the people brought up in the gay intimacy of the slums, Paul learned, who find prison so soul destroying.

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.

She was incomprehensible, for, in her, soul and spirit were one - the beauty of her body was the essence of her soul. She was that unity sought for by philosophers through many centuries. In this outdoor waiting room of winds and stars she had been sitting for a hundred years, at peace in the contemplation of herself.

In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day.

Man in his hunger for faith will feed his mind with the nearest and most convenient food.

The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and all illusion.

But at three o'clock in the morning, a forgotten package has the same tragic importance as a death sentence, and the cure doesn't work-- and in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day.

But Dick had come away for his soul's sake, and he began thinking about that. He had lost himself--he could not tell the hour when, or the day or the week, the month or the year.

Oh, he was a pretentious fool, making careers out of cocktails and meanwhile regretting, weakly and secretly, the collapse of an insufficient and wretched idealism. He had garnished his soul in the subtlest taste and now he longed for the old rubbish. He was empty, it seemed, empty as an old bottle —

There are always those to whom all self-revelation is contemptible, unless it ends with a noble thanks to the gods for the Unconquerable Soul.

Eleanor was, say, the last time that evil crept close to Amory under the mask of beauty, the last weird mystery that held him with wild fascination and pounded his soul to flakes.

Somewhere inside me there'll always be the person I am to-night.

There was the union of his soul with Gloria's, whose radiant fire and freshness was the living material of which the dead beauty of books was made.

Very rarely, with the spur of jealousy or forced separation, the ancient ecstasies returned, the apparent communion of soul and soul, the emotion excitement.

She was incomprehensible, for, in her, soul and spirit were one- the beauty of her body was the essence of her soul.

The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance—that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it—then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and all illusion. CHAPTER

No amount of fre or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.

Ninguna cantidad de fuego o frescura puede desafiar lo que un hombre puede almacenar en los fantasmas de su corazón.

It was your little white soul I tried to keep near me- even when life was at its loudest and every intellectual idea of God seemed the sheerest mockery. - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction