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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #spirituality
Nou, Stanley Donne legde ons uit dat alle godsdiensten ter wereld, occulte broederschappen, alle mystici en sjamanen, of het nu Rozenkruisers, Ridders van de Ronde Tafel, Egyptische hogepriesters, Tibetaanse boeddhistishce monniken, Zuid-Amerikaanse naguals, Indiase yogi's, Keltische druïden of discipelen van Jezus waren, allemaal hetzelfde doel nastreefden, namelijk om het bewustzijn van het individu dusdanig te vergroten en te verheffen dat hij of zij uiteindelijk tot een kosmisch bewustzijn komt en toetreedt tot hogere dimensies. ↗
The glamorous life is a facade, a fraud a farce of frivolous trite The storybook is blank inside Chivalry has died ↗
#donato #heaven-and-hell #hollywood #limbo-bimbo #magical-prowess
After a time I found that I could almost listen to the silence, which had a dimension all of its own. I started to attend to its strange and beautiful texture, which of course, it was impossible to express in words. I discovered that I felt at home and alive in the silence, which compelled me to enter my interior world and around there. Without the distraction of constant conversation, the words on the page began to speak directly to my inner self. They were no long expressing ideas that were simply interesting intellectually, but were talking directly to my own yearning and perplexity. ↗
The power of beauty Lies within our soul And how we choose To see everything It is not found from The strokes of a make-up brush Nor the acceptance from others ↗
I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that he will guide me to do whatever I'm supposed to do, what I can do. I used to pray for answers, but now I'm praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things, but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.” --Mother Teresa http://amzn.to/dMBLWW ↗
Say you could view a time lapse film of our planet: what would you see? Transparent images moving through light, “an infinite storm of beauty.” The beginning is swaddled in mists, blasted by random blinding flashes. Lava pours and cools; seas boil and flood. Clouds materialize and shift; now you can see the earth’s face through only random patches of clarity. The land shudders and splits, like pack ice rent by widening lead. Mountains burst up, jutting, and dull and soften before your eyes, clothed in forests like felt. The ice rolls up, grinding green land under water forever; the ice rolls back. Forests erupt and disappear like fairy rings. The ice rolls up- mountains are mowed into lakes, land rises wet from the sea like a surfacing whale- the ice rolls back. A blue-green streaks the highest ridges, a yellow-green spreads from the south like a wave up a strand. A red dye seems to leak from the north down the ridges and into the valleys, seeping south; a white follows the red, then yellow-green washes north, then red spreads again, then white, over and over, making patterns of color too intricate to follow. Slow the film. You see dust storms, locusts, floods, in dizzying flash-frames. Zero in on a well-watered shore and see smoke from fires drifting. Stone cities rise, spread, and crumble, like paths of alpine blossoms that flourish for a day an inch above the permafrost, that iced earth no root can suck, and wither in a hour. New cities appear, and rivers sift silt onto their rooftops; more cities emerge and spread in lobes like lichen on rock. The great human figures of history, those intricate, spirited tissues whose split second in the light was too brief an exposure to yield any image but the hunched shadowless figures of ghosts. Slow it down more, come closer still. A dot appears, a flesh-flake. It swells like a balloon; it moves, circles, slows, and vanishes. This is your life. ↗
