All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.
Maybe God has a bigger plan for me than I have for myself.
That's all an angel is....an idea of God.
We are like children, who stand in need of masters to enlighten us and direct us; God has provided for this, by appointing his angels to be our teachers and guides.
It is not known precisely where angels dwell whether in the air, the void, or the planets. It has not been God's pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.
Angels descending bring from above Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.
The soul at its highest is found like God, but an angel gives a closer idea of Him. That is all an angel is: an idea of God.
A woman has two smiles that an angel might envy, the smile that accepts the lover afore words are uttered, and the smile that lights on the first-born baby, and assures him of a mother's love.
Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
An angel can illumine the thought and mind of man by strengthening the power of vision and by bringing within his reach some truth which the angel himself contemplates.
Every man contemplates an angel in his future self.
Angels are spirits, but it is not because they are spirits that they are angels. They become angels when they are sent. For the name angel refers to their office, not their nature. You ask the name of this nature, it is spirit; you ask its office, it is that of an Angel, which is a messenger.
Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.
We shall find peace. We shall hear angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.
O welcome pure-eyed Faith, white handed Hope, Thou hovering angel girt with golden wings.
Outside the open window The morning air is all awash with angels.
I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
If only, if only, the moon speaks no reply; Reflecting the sun and all that's gone by. Be strong my weary wolf, turn around boldly. Fly high, my baby bird, My angel, my only
It's not all bad. Heightened self-consciousness, apartness, an inability to join in, physical shame and self-loathing—they are not all bad. Those devils have been my angels. Without them I would never have disappeared into language, literature, the mind, laughter and all the mad intensities that made and unmade me.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
Heaven with my angel. It doesn't get any better than this.
As a self-respecting dude, I'd never believed in fairy tales, but in that moment, I did. I'd found my angel to live happily-ever-after with.
You are my angel and my damnation; in your presence I reach divine ecstasy and in your absence I descent to hell.
Even though my angel has forgiven me and rescued me, who on earth will save him, who cannot be allowed into the light of the sun, who has lost his name, who can only hide himself in the world of darkness?
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