Quotes About Soul

I am a murderer. I simply have not yet murdered. But I will, given time. The good in me is draining away into the dark hole in my center. My soul is broken. I am broken. I am my father's son.

When you start fooling around with drugs, you're hurting your creativity, you're hurting your health. Drugs are death, in one form or another. If they don't kill you, they kill your soul. And if your soul's dead, you've got nothing to offer, anyway.

If the soul does not repent, and wipe out its sins by sorrow, the demons almost immediately return and continue to possess it." St. Alphonsus

real joy is a "severe matter"; it is the happiness of a soul which is "lifted above every circumstance.

The teachings of ECK define the nature of Soul. You are Soul, a particle of God sent into this world to gain spiritual experience.

The Shariyat-Ki-Sugmad, which means the "Way of the Eternal," is the ancient scripture of Eckankar, the science of Soul Travel and total consciousness. Shariyat-Ki-Sugmad Book One

My soul is nothing now but the dream dreamt by matter struggling with itself!

Anxious to know, yet only too happy to ignore, we seek in what is, a remedy for what is not; and in what is not a relief from what is. Now the real, now illusion is our refuge; and the soul has finally no other resource but the true, which is her weapon -- and falsehood, which is her armor.

Lo más profundo del hombre es la piel.

Ce qu'il y a de plus profond dans l'homme, c'est la peau.

I have put my soul and trust in flowers. Occult flowers, flowers of premonition.

Of its persistent, artless strain: Naught so can soothe a soul's own pain, As making glad another soul!

Mon âme pour d'affreux naufrages appareille.

A vous ces vers, de par la grâce consolante De vos grands yeux où rit et pleure un rêve doux, De par votre âme, pure et toute bonne, à vous Ces vers du fond de ma détresse violente.

Libre à nos Inspirés, cÅ"urs qu'une Å"illade enflamme, D'abandonner leur être aux vents comme un bouleau ; Pauvres gens ! l'Art n'est pas d'éparpiller son âme : Est-elle en marbre, ou non, la Vénus de Milo ?

There's an old ghost story about that, I remember, how the devil steals souls by asking for them openly. He isn't a thief, but a master manipulator. The real danger, or so the story goes, isn't in the devil himself, but in not knowing you have a choice to turn him away.

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best. Night, sleep, death and the stars.

There's an old ghost story about that, I remember, about how the devil steals souls by asking for them openly. He isn't a thief, but a master manipulator. The real danger, or so the story goes, isn't in the devil himself, but in not knowing you have a choice to turn him away.

Mine hadn't, and neither had Cameron's. All the scars I still carry, she carries, too. Trust issues, attachment trouble, identity problems, feelings of emptiness, isolation, alienation, and despair—cracks in the soul that can't be mended. I've seen it. I've lived it. How anyone with a hole inside them will search on and on, sometimes all their lives, for ways to fill it.

The eyes she had wondered about turned out to be the most startling shade of blue-green she had even seen in her life. Ringed by raven lashes and a dark foreboding brow, they pierced her very soul.

If you want to know real joy in life, then be willing to let pain tutor your soul.

you can't really love other people well unless you are at home in your own soul. You will simply be too afraid.

To go through our first creation is a turning of the soul we hope toward the light, out of the animal world. God be with us. To go through another tears all the making of the first creation and sometimes it falls to bits. We fall into pieces. She is asking, Where is that rock of my creation?

They had a red scalp and two blond scalps, very long ones that waved and shook in the wind, and in that hair was the soul of the enemy held tight, tight. There was light all around them and all around their war horses and it was as beautiful and dangerous as the color of lightning.