Quotes
Quotes about Heart
Stillborn silence! thou that art Flood-gate of the deeper heart!
The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest. -John V. Cheney.
Geese appear high over us, pass, and the sky closes. Abandon, as in love or sleep, holds them to their way, clear in the ancient faith: what we need is here. And we pray, not for new earth or heaven, but to be quiet in heart, and in eye, clear. What we need is here.
Come, now again, thy woes impart, Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin; We cannot heal the throbbing heart Will we discern the wounds within.
God sent his Singers upon earth With songs of sadness and of mirth, That they might touch the hearts of men, And bring them back to heaven again.
The soft blue sky did never melt Into his heart; he never felt The witching of the soft blue sky!
A generous heart repairs a slanderous tongue.
I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here; Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison.
A smile is a light in the window of the soul indicating that the heart is at home.
'Tis easy enough to be pleasant, When life flows along like a song; But the man worth while is the one who will smile When everything does dead wrong; For the test of the heart is trouble, And it always comes with the years, But the smile that is worth the praise of earth Is the smile that comes through tears. . . . . But the virtue that conquers passion, And the sorrow that hides in a smile-- It is these that are worth the homage of earth, For we find them but once in a while.
All mass movements generate in their adherents a readiness to die and a proclivity for united action; all of them, irrespective of the doctrine they preach and the program they project, breed fanaticism, enthusiasm, fervent hope, hatred and intolerance; all of them are capable of releasing a powerful flow of activity in certain departments of life; all of them demand blind faith and singlehearted allegiance.
To our real, naked selves there is not a thing on earth or in heaven worth dying for. It is only when we see ourselves as actors in a staged (and therefore unreal) performance that death loses its frightfulness and finality and becomes an act of make-believe and a theatrical gesture. It is one of the main tasks of a real leader to mask the grim reality of dying and killing by evoking in his followers the illusion that they are participating in a grandiose spectacle, a solemn or lighthearted dramatic performance.
A song of hate is a song of Hell; Some there be who sing it well. Let them sing it loud and long, We lift our hearts in a loftier song: We life our hearts to Heaven above, Singing the glory of her we love, England.
She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pity: and when winter evenings fall early (sitting at her merry wheel), she sings a defiance to the giddy wheel of fortune . . . and fears no manner of ill because she means none.
O, sorrow! Why dost borrow Heart's lightness from the merriment of May?
I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a heart; but the saying is true, 'The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.'
My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things? for out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.
He who does not make his words rather serve to conceal than discover the sense of his heart deserves to have it pulled out like a traitor's and shown publicly to the rabble.
The heart seldom feels what the mouth expresses. [Fr., Le coeur sent rarement ce que la bouche exprime.]
God is seated in the hearts of all.
Whether we name divine presence synchronicity, serendipity, or graced moment matters little. What matters is the reality that our hearts have been understood. Nothing is as real as a healthy dose of magic which restores our spirits.
It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.
I'm convinced that every boy, in his heart, would rather steal second base than an automobile.
You only have to bat a thousand two things; flying and heart transplants. Everything else you can go 4 for five.
