She enjoys rain for its wetness, winter for its cold, summer for its heat. She loves rainbows as much for fading as for their brilliance. It is easy for her, she opens her heart and accepts everything.
As the sun is to the earth, so Honour is to a man. without it, he will not flourish. All else may fail you, but honour is the treasure no one can take from you, the shield no one can penetrate unless you let them. Honour is beautiful and clean. Honour is sacred.
If you would have peace, genuine peace, you must accept all the aspects of your personality and learn to be comfortable with them.
happy women get softer and rounder.
I'm Irish!...When I feel well I feel better than anyone, when I am in pain I yell at the top of my lungs, and when I am dead I shall be deader than anybody.
There is a cruelty that lurks in some men’s souls which is only released when they have other men in their power.
We’re born alone and we die alone, I accept that. But why, God, do we have to be alone in the middle?
Wine could become a place rather than a beverage.
Intuition is the voice of the spirit within you.
Bodies wear out to remind us they are temporary, and force us to spend more thought on our spirits
Waiting is worse than knowing. Grief rends the heart cleanly, that it may begin to heal; waiting shreds the spirit.
You must bind up any wounds you give the earth and you must feed her to replace what you take from her. Every gift she gives, every tree, every stalk of grain, costs her. Only if you repay your debts will she continue to provide.
The harmony that holds the stars on their courses and the flesh on our bones resonates through all creation. Every sound contains its echo. Before there was humankind, or even forest, there was sound. Sound spread from the source in great circles like those formed when a stone is dropped in a pool. We follow waves of sound from life to life. A dying man’s ears will hear long after his eyes are blind. He hears the sound that leads him to his next life as the Source of All being plucks the harp of creation.
I'm only the instrument through which one particular art is expressed. Poetry flows through me but it originates in the wellspring of creation that is the source of us all. When you strike out at someone else's achievement you are attacking your own share of a great gift.
The pain we bring to others we cannot escape ourselves.
There is no disgrace in peace. There can never be dishonor in peace.
teaching meant for the hands enters most easily through the eyes.
You have no enemy until you make one.
Dreams can be relentless tyrants.
The one power a man has that cannot be stripped from him is the power to do nothing.
He took her into his arms again, using all his strength to be gentle, and let his lips touch hers so lightly he could hardly feel it.
There was a rhythm to the canter. Up, forward, down; up, forward, down. It soon became pleasant. The broad warm rump felt good beneath her. The pounding was diminished, cushioned by the horse's muscles and the springiness of his hindquarter joints . . . The ridden horse was a marvel, diminishing space.
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