Quotes About Soul

They never look very big on the table, the bodies. It's built to accommodate the largest frames, there's that. And they're naked. But it's something else. That parcel of the being called the soul-weighing twenty-one grams, according to the experiments of the American doctor Duncan MacDougall-takes up a surprising amount of space, like aloud voice. In its absence, the body seems to shrink

My novel has found a beautiful soul. How shall I write it? Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words...

?i sfinÈ›ii sau înÈ›elepÈ›ii de odinioar?, È™i cercet?torii de azi ai fenomenelor metapsihice, toÈ›i cei care au meditat asupra sufletului È™i-au manifestat în general respectul pentru cel al fiinÈ›ei umane È™i au desconsiderat celelalte animale È™i plantele. De mii de ani înaint?m orbeÈ™te doar în direcÈ›ia c?ut?rii diferenÈ›elor de tot felul dintre om È™i lumea natural?.

La profondità dell'essere umano è proporzionale alle esperienze vissute e alla lontananza del tempo in cui il suo animo si immerge.

Because homeland is one of the magical fantasy words like unicorn and soul and infinity that have now passed into the language. And the particular magic of homeland, its particular spell over irie, was that it sounded like a beginning. The beginningest of beginnings. Like the first morning of Eden and the day after apocalypse. A blank page. (p.332)

But singing isn't just about belting it out, is it? It's not just who has the most wobble or the highest note, no, it's about phrasing, and being delicate, and getting just the right feeling from a song, the soul of it, so that something real happens inside you when a man opens his mouth to sing, and don't you want to feel something real rather than just having your poor earholes bashed in?

it's about phrasing, and being delicate, and getting just the right feeling from a song, the soul of it, so that something real happens inside you when a man opens his mouth to sing, and don't you want to feel something real rather than just having your poor earholes bashed in?" He

the sheer beauty of the voice, its monumental dose of soul, the pain implicit within it, bypassed all my conscious opinions, my critical intelligence or sense of the sentimental

Maybe you could say she was overly precise sometimes, not especially creative, or lacking in soul.

Svaka knjiga, svaki svezak koji vidiš, ima dušu. Dušu onoga koji ju je napisao i onih koji su je ?itali, proživeli i uz nju sanjarili. Svaki put kada knjiga pre?e iz ruke u ruku, svaki put kad neko pogledom preleti njene stranice, njen duh raste i ja?a. Karlos Ruis Safon: Senka vetra

Laimingas tas, kur? aploja kvailiai,nes jo siela niekada jiems nepriklausys

Love is when you look into someone's eyes and see everything you need." —Unknown

But that never was true. Glenn was as sane as I am, and, my dear, that's pretty sane, I'll have you remember. But he must have suffered some terrible blight to his spirit--some blunting of his soul.

There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in a sickly air. People can be slave-ships in shoes.

Of course he wasn't dead. He could never be dead until she herself had finished feeling and thinking. The kiss of his memory made pictures of love and light against the wall. Here was peace. She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.

So her soul crawled out from its hiding place.

At the bottom in the gut of jazz if you listen closely you can hear—no matter how complexly, obliquely, mysteriously stylized—somebody talking, crying, growling, singing, farting, praying, stomping, voicing in all those modes through which our bodies communicate some tale about how it feels to be here on earth or leaving, or about the sweet pain of hanging on between the coming and going.

De wife she de eyes to de man's soul. How kin I see now, when I ain' gottee de eyes no mo'?

I would like just a little of her sunshine to soak into my soul. I would like that a lot.

There two things everybody had to do: Go to God and find out what living is for yourself.

She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder. So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.

There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in a dry season and rotting around the feet; impulses smothered too long in the fetid air of underground caves. The soul lives in a sickly air. People can be slave-ships in shoes. This

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place

So much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.