Quotes About Soul

There is no other woman as lovely as you . . . And only you can satisfy my soul.

Los ojos suelen ser el punto débil de cualquier disfraz, ¿sabe usted? Porque el portador del mismo debe ver el mundo y debe dejarlos expuestos por muy bien que oculte el resto de su persona. Sin embargo, sus ojos son su disfraz... o al menos son la parte más importante. Me es imposible vislumbrar siquiera un trocito de su alma por mucho que los mire.

True treasure is inside your heart - it's a soul that is at peace with God. So live your life for God. Not for your parents or yourself. Streets of gold are for the next life.

If anything could prove the existence of the soul, he thought, it was the utter emptiness of a corpse.

In his own soul, he knew with sudden certainty that it was not rebellion or doubt or even sin that broke God's heart; it was indifference.

She taught them that every soul is a small reflection of God, and that it is wicked to murder because when a life is taken, we lose that unique revelation of God's nature.

How can you hear your soul if everyone is talking?" He said nothing more that day, but Ha'anala spent hours considering his words. A soul, she decided, was the most real part of a person, and to discover what is real requires privacy.

Valiantly, he tried to bring his soul to life in the small thing through which it had to live, and it was crushed, again and again.

Slurping these spirits is soul preparation, a warped communion, myself serving as god, priest, and congregation.

Angels carried her away, Joyfully singing with Jesus, Promoted to glory, Fell asleep in the cradle of death, Advanced to eternal life, and Breathed her soul into her Savior's arms were some

maybe death isn't darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us--

Maybe the desire to make something beautiful is the piece of God that is inside each of us.

Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? While the soul, after all, is only a window, and the opening of the window no more difficult than the wakening from a little sleep.

You can fool a lot of yourself but you can't fool the soul. That worrier.

You are young. So you know everything. You leap into the boat and begin rowing. But, listen to me. Without fanfare, without embarrassment, without doubt,I talk directly to your soul. Listen to me.

For Emerson, the value and distinction of transcendentalism was very much akin to this swerving and rolling away from acute definition. All the world is taken in through the eye, to reach the soul, where it becomes more, representative of a realm deeper than appearances: a realm ideal and sublime, the deep stillness that is, whose whole proclamation is the silence and the lack of material instance in which, patiently and radiantly, the universe exists.

The Gift Be still, my soul, and steadfast. Earth and heaven both are still watching though time is draining from the clock and your walk, that was confident and quick, has become slow. So, be slow if you must, but let the heart still play its true part. love still as once you loved, deeply and without patience. Let God and the world know you are grateful. That the gift has been given.

And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away from wherever you are, to look for your soul?

I am burdened with anxiety. Anxiety for the lamb with his bitter future, anxiety for my own body, and, not least, anxiety for my own soul. You can fool a lot of yourself but you can't fool the soul. That worrier.

Rumi said, There is no proof of the soul. But isn't the return of spring and how it springs up in our hearts a pretty good hint?

To believe in the soul—to believe in it exactly as much and as hardily as one believes in a mountain, say, or a fingernail, which is ever in view— imagine the consequences! How far-reaching, and thoroughly wonderful! For everything, by such a belief, would be charged, and changed. You wake in the morning, the soul exists, your mouth sings it, your mind accepts it. And the perceived, tactile world is, upon the instant, only half the world!

I believe everything has a soul.

I know a lot of fancy words. I tear them from my heart and my tongue. Then I pray.

I, too, have been forced to stand close to it, and have felt the almost muscular agony of impotence before it, unable to interfere or assuage or do anything effective. Though I do—oh yes I do—believe the soul is improvable. Oh sweet and defiant hope! 5