Quotes
Quotes about Soul
O brave poets, keep back nothing; Nor mix falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul! Hold, in high poetic duty, Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.
Darkness yields to starlight, to the light of the rising sun, and to the light of the soul.
What doth it profit a man if he gains the who world and loses his own soul?
It profits a man nothing to give his soul for the whole world... but for Wales!
Central depth of purple, Leaves more bright than rose, Who shall tell what brightest thought Out of darkness grows? Who, through what funereal pain, Souls to love and peace attain? - Leigh Hunt (James Henry Leigh Hunt),
Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze most softly lulling to my soul.
Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear, Unite division, and draw distance near; Their magic force each silent wish conveys, And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways: Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean, For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.
Content with poverty, my soul I arm; And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm.
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God.
Join voices, all ye living souls: ye birds, That singing up to heaven-gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Yet then from all my grief, O Lord, Thy mercy set me free, Whilst in the confidence of pray'r My soul took hold on thee. - Joseph Addison,
Fast closed with double grills And triple gates--the cell To wicked souls is hell; But to a mind that's innocent 'Tis only iron, wood and stone. [Fr., Doubles grilles a gros cloux, Triples portes, forts verroux, Aux ames vraiment mechantes Vous representez l'enfer; Mais aux ames innocentes Vous n'etes que du bois, des pierres, du fer.]
From hence, no question, has sprung an observation . . . confirmed now into a settled opinion, that some long experienced souls in the world, before their dislodging, arrive to the height of prophetic spirit.
O my prophetic soul! My uncle?
Every fairly intelligent person is aware that the price of respectability is a muffled soul bent on the trivial and the mediocre.
Habits are to the soul what the veins and arteries are to the blood, the courses in which it moves.
It is nobler to convert souls, than to conquer kingdoms.
It is the pull of opposite poles that stretches souls. And only stretched souls make music.
In the alchemy of man's soul almost all noble attributes- courage, honor, love, hope, faith, duty, loyalty, and so on- can be transmuted into ruthlessness. Compassion alone stands apart from the continuous traffic between good and evil proceeding within us. Compassion is the antitoxin of the soul: where there is compassion, even the most poisonous impulses remain relatively harmless.
A man's soul is pierced as it were with holes, and as his longings flow through each they are transmuted into something specific.
Evil witnesses are eyes and ears of men, if they have souls that do not understand their language.
Only the consciousness of a purpose that is mightier than any man and worthy of all men can fortify and inspirit and compose the souls of men.
Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth and the soul requires inward restfulness to attain its full height.
And still the Raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas Just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming Of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming Throws his shadow on the floor, And my soul from out that shadow, That lies floating on the floor, Shall be lifted--nevermore.
