The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be?--it is the same the angels breathe.
That is to be two and to be but one. A man and a woman mingled into one angel. It is heaven.
The shadows of our own desires stand between us and our better angels, and thus their brightness is eclipsed.
Pride ruined the angels.
We don't need wings to be angels We don't need reasons to be right Your love makes us all better That who we really are Angels and heroes at heart
Through love the devil becomes an angel. Through love stones become soft as butter. Through love grief is like delight. Through love demons become the servants of God.
There is a divinity awaiting entry into human history at the threshold of our heart's doors.
Even sleep is characteristic. How beautiful are children in their lovely innocence! how angel-like their blooming features! and how painful and anxious is the sleep of the guilty!
The lights of prayer that make us imagine we are beginning to be angels are sometimes only signs that we are finally beginning to be men. We do not have a high enough opinion of our own nature. We think we are at the gates of heaven and we are only just beginning to come into our own realm as free and intelligent beings.
Suicide was a mortal luxury not afforded to angels.
We don't become angels merely by the instrument of death. If we are angels now, we will be angels in the hereafter. If we are dark, negative personalities now, we will be the same after death.
From the errors of others, a wise man corrects his own.
In the land of God's and Monsters, I was an angel looking to get f-ked hard.
Fair ladies, masked, are roses in their bud; Dismasked, the damask sweet commixture shown, Are angels vailing clouds, or roses blown.
All our longings for what is loving and true reach out into heaven. They put us in touch with angels who are feeling the same way and unite us with them.
Being peaceful is being angel!
Those sweetly smiling angels with pensive looks, innocent faces, and cash-boxes for hearts.
I heard the tongues of angels and the tongues of men and it all sounded no different to me.
Smells are the fallen angels of the senses.
As a maternal figure, I always try to keep the flock safe, of course. But I admit, it did my heart proud to see the instant blood-lust pop into Gazzy’s blue eyes and to see little Angel automatically tense up and get into fighting stance, ready to rip someone’s head off. They were just so — so dang adorable, sometimes.
Sometimes I have wondered whether life wouldn't be much more amusing if we were all devils, and no nonsense about angels and being good.
Happy those early days when I Shined in my Angel-infancy. Before I understood this place Appointed for my second race, Or taught my soul to fancy aught But a white, celestial thought; When yet I had not walked above A mile or two from my first love, And looking back (at that short space) Could see a glimpse of His bright face. When on some gilded cloud or flower My gazing soul would dwell an hour And in those weaker glories spy Some shadows of eternity.
Dear, harmless age! the short, swift span Where weeping Virtue parts with man; Where love without lust dwells, and bends What way we please without self-ends. An age of mysteries! which he Must live that would God's face see Which angels guard, and with it play, Angels! which foul men drive away.
When you reach for a star, only angels are there. And it's not very far, just a step on a stair.
All the difference between men and angels is, men are passing through the day of trial that angels have already passed through.
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