Quotes About Serene

Here was a tranquil, sunshiny day of a life that was to be agitated and stormy—a happy hour or two to remember. Not much happened during the happy hour or two. It was only sweet sleep, pleasant waking, friendly welcome, serene pastime.

I am interested in madness. I believe it is the biggest thing in the human race, and the most constant. How do you take away from a man his madness without also taking away his identity? Are we sure it is desirable for a man's spirit not to be at war with itself, or that it is better to be serene and ready to go to dinner than to be excited and unwilling to stop for a cup of coffee, even?

Down a narrow, nondescript Bangkok lane, the graceful red roofs of a traditional Thai residence rise above a lush tropical garden, in serene contrast with the city's modern clamor all around. This was the home of an American named Jim Thompson, and it stands today as a continuing memorial to a remarkable man and to his love for Thailand's rich culture.

Christmas Air Christmas Air means peace, knowledge and wisdom.

Happiness is the abscence of the striving for happiness.

You seem very calm. Yes. Learn from it.

She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.

In the study of the profession to which he had looked forward all his life he found irritation and vacuity as well as serene wisdom; he saw no one clear path to Truth but a thousand paths to a thousand truths far-off and doubtful.

Like Gibraltar, he is solid and steady and nothing disturbs his tranquility.

I try to stay real calm and careful

Vancouver just feels comfortable to me.

I love Hexham, where I live. And 'Grantchester' reminds me of Hexham a lot. Everything is alive; the birdsong, the flowers, the vegetation.

All is full, existence everywhere, dense, heavy and sweet. But beyond all this sweetness, inaccessible, near and so far, young, merciless and serene, there is this... this rigour.

loved the sound of the rain on the metal roof

Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun.

Newborn leaf clusters on the surrounding trees had a look of pale green popcorn. Tufts of onion grass sprouted across the soccer field, releasing their sweet scent.

The setting sun seemed to have ladled its syrupy light over the crusted snow, so that ordinary house parts and backyards in this fading moment seemed a spectacular raspberry dessert.

Clearly, she had erased herself. She was gone. She was serenity. Her lips faintly smiling. Her golden skin. The glowing thread ends of her hair. She seemed to have been dipped in sunlight and set here to dry.

The trees stood stiffly like sinister monks in black habits guarding the glades and clearings with the broad sleeves of their branches.

She was asleep, that blond hair swirled like butter on the pillow beneath her

Tracy Morgan is subdued. I'm cool. I'm chilled out.

Always remember the beauty of the garden, for there is peace

Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that's beautiful.

Love is a momentary destruction, a combustion that threatens the pure creature we love, the one who's wounded in our fire. But after we've pulled away from her unraveled flames and looked at her, we see clearly the new, re-formed and flawless life, the quiet, warm life that called to us from the sweet surface of her body. Here is love's perfect vessel, filled and overflowing with its serene and glistening golden blood.