Quotes
Quotes about Heart
Peace originates with the flow of things â its heart is like the movement of the wind and waves. The Way is like the veins that circulate blood through our bodies, following the natural flow of the life force. If you are separated in the slightest from that divine essence, you are far off the path.
A peace that comes from fear and not from the heart is the opposite of peace.
We Are The Living Graves Of Murdered Beasts We are the living graves of murdered beasts Slaughtered to satisfy our appetites We never pause to wonder at our feasts If animals, like men, can possibly have rights We pray on Sundays that we may have light To guide our footsteps on the path we tread We're sick of war We do not want to fight The thought of it now fills our hearts with dread And yet we gorge ourselves upon the dead Like carrion crows we live and feed on meat Regardless of the suffering and pain We cause by doing so. If thus we treat Defenseless animals for sport or gain How can we hope in this world to attain the PEACE we say we are so anxious for We pray for it o'er hecatombs of slain To God, while outraging the moral law Thus cruelty begets its offspring: war.
But peace does not rest in the charters and covenants alone. It lies in the hearts and minds of all people. So let us not rest all our hopes on parchment and on paper, let us strive to build peace, a desire for peace, a willingness to work for peace in the hearts and minds of all of our people. I believe that we can. I believe the problems of human destiny are not beyond the reach of human beings.
The heart has eyes which the brain knows nothing of.
The heart has eyes which the brain knows nothing of.
Freedom is never letting your fears stop you from following your heart.
I am imagination. I can see what the eyes cannot see. I can hear what the ears cannot hear. I can feel what the heart cannot feel.
To measure the man, measure his heart.
A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad When he put on his clothes.
Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds at every turn.
Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell There God is dwelling too. For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
Poetry is plucking at the heartstrings, and making music with them.
A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret sufferings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music... and then people crowd about the poet and say to him: "Sing for us soon again;" that is as much as to say, "May new sufferings torment your soul.".
Poetry is the utterance of deep and heart-felt truth--the true poet is very near the oracle.
Mystical references to "society" and its programs to "help" may warm the hearts of the gullible but what it really means is putting more power in the hands of bureaucrats.
It is precisely those things which belong to "the people" which have historically been despoiled- wild creatures, the air, and waterways being notable examples. This goes to the heart of why property rights are socially important in the first place. Property rights mean self-interested monitors. No owned creatures are in danger of extinction. No owned forests are in danger of being leveled. No one kills the goose that lays the golden egg when it is his goose.
I wonder how many of the people who profess to believe in the leveling ideas of collectivism and egalitarianism really just believe that they themselves are good for nothing. I mean, how many leftists are animated by a quite reasonable self-loathing? In their hearts they know that they are not going to become scholars or inventors or industrialists or even ordinary good kind people. So they need a way to achieve that smugness for which the left is so justifiably famous. They need a way to achieve self-esteem without merit. Well, there is politics. In an egalitarian world everything will be controlled by politics, and politics requires no merit.
'Tis the business of little minds to shrink; but he whose heart is firm, and whose conscience approves his conduct, will pursue his principles unto death.
While technically I did not commit a crime, an impeachable offense... these are legalisms, as far as the handling of this matter is concerned; it was so botched up, I made so many bad judgments. The worst ones, mistakes of the heart, rather than the head. But let me say, a man in that top job - he's got to have a heart, but his head must always rule his heart.
Oh! Duty is an icy shadow. It will freeze you. It cannot fill the heart's sanctuary.
I sing the Poppy! The frail snowy weed! The flower of Mercy! that within its heart Doth keep "a drop serene" for human need, A drowsy balm for every bitter smart. For happy hours the Rose will idly blow-- The Poppy hath a charm for pain and woe.
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch, Cold and yet cheerful; messenger of grief Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some.
A piece of simple goodness--a letter gushing from the heart; a beautiful unstudied vindication of the worth and untiring sweetness of human nature--a record of the invulnerability of man, armed with high purpose, sanctified by truth.
Kind messages, that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,-- One touch of fire,--and all the rest is mystery!
