#still

You're paved in my heart like an old road. Like the pebbles in a pebble field, dirt in dirt, dust in dust, cobwebs in cobwebs. ↗

— Kyung-Sook Shin

#love #soul #still #love

Love is a soft whisper coming from the beating one's heart. It's gentle rhythm gives you a feeling of ecstasy you cannot readily fathom for it's not easily defined nor there are finite reasons as to why it is felt by someone. ↗

— Elizabeth E. Castillo

#love-quotes #love

I uttered his name like a silent whisper of the falling rain - saying love is his game as the cool breeze sets in."- Elizabeth's Shorter Poems ↗

— Elizabeth E. Castillo

#love #short-poems #whisper #love

What a marshmallow. You should hold out for someone with a stronger stomach. Someone who laughs at the gore that makes weaker men vomit. ↗

— Stephenie Meyer

#men

Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle, Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong. Think rather,--call to thought, if now you grieve a little, The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long. Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn; Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry: Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born. Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason, I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun. Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season: Let us endure an hour and see injustice done. Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation; All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain: Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation-- Oh why did I awake? when shall I sleep again? ↗

— A.E. Housman

#birth #death #emotion #grief #heaven-and-earth

It still holds true that man is most uniquely human when he turns obstacles into opportunities. ↗

— Eric Hoffer

#human #into #man #most #obstacles

But if you close your eyes,does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? ↗

— Bastille Pompeii

#eyes #music #change

If a mother is mourning not for what she has lost but for what her dead child has lost, it is a comfort to believe that the child has not lost the end for which it was created. And it is a comfort to believe that she herself, in losing her chief or only natural happiness, has not lost a greater thing, that she may still hope to "glorify God and enjoy Him forever." A comfort to the God-aimed, eternal spirit within her. But not to her motherhood. The specifically maternal happiness must be written off. Never, in any place or time, will she have her son on her knees, or bathe him, or tell him a story, or plan for his future, or see her grandchild. ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#death #grief #grieving #loss #miscarriage

One night I was standing on Third Avenue playing my guitar, when this big Irish policeman came strolling by, and stopped to listen to my singing and playing. When I was done, he politely handed me a ticket for disturbing the peace, while at the same time telling me how much he liked my voice. I wish I still had that ticket. ↗

— Frank Stallone

#big #came #disturbing #done #guitar

If what you have done yesterday still looks big to you, you haven't done much today. ↗

— Mikhail Gorbachev

#done #haven #looks #much #still