Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'.
Everyone needs a place where they can go to just ponder for a while. Silence is important; it's the only time you can hear the whispering of truth.
Let your heart guide you...it whispers so listen closely.
Next time a sunrise steals your breath or a meadow of flowers leave you speechless, remain that way. Say nothing, and listen as Heaven whispers, "Do you like it? I did it just for you."
I wasn't kissing her, I was whispering in her mouth!
For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.
Alas! they had been friends in youth; but whispering tongues can poison truth.
Whispering can be a rest from a noisy world of words.
The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenements halls and whispered in the sounds of silence.
Relax. Breathe in deep. Hold it. Let it out. Loosen your shoulders. Smile. Close your eyes. You'll be surprised at how many voices you'll hear, whispering sweet encouragement into your ear.
Art is really whispering, not shouting.
God's voice was not in the earthquake, Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering breezes.
At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters have settled after a night of rain. I dip my cupped hands. I drink a long time. It tastes like stone, leaves, fire. It falls cold into my body, waking the bones. I hear them deep inside me, whispering oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?
The words that a father speaks to his children in the privacy of home are not heard by the world, but, as in whispering galleries, they are clearly heard at the end, and by posterity.
In every moment the Universe is whispering to you.
We may stumble, but always there is that eternal voice, forever whispering within our ear, that thing which causes the eternal quest, that thing which forever sings and sings.
I do believe in an everyday sort of magic -- the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we're alone.
There is another alphabet Whispering from every leaf, Singing from every river, Shimmering from every sky.
The face of the night will be an old wound that reopens each evening, impassive and living. The distant silence will ache like a soul, mute, in the dark. We'll speak to the night as it's whispering softly.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
The world is holy. We are holy. All life is holy. Daily prayers are delivered on the lips of breaking waves, the whisperings of grasses, the shimmering of leaves.
Dark the Night, with breath all flowers, And tender broken voice that fills With ravishment the listening hours,-- Whisperings, wooings, Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings In low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills! Dark the night Yet is she bright, For in her dark she brings the mystic star, Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love, From some unknown afar.
It's all a matter of paying attention, being awake in the present moment, and not expecting a huge payoff. The magic in this world seems to work in whispers and small kindnesses.
The Voice There is a voice inside of you That whispers all day long, "I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong." No teacher, preacher, parent, friend Or wise man can decide What's right for you--just listen to The voice that speaks inside.
The Higher Self is whispering to you softly in the silence between your thoughts.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: