Cecelia Ahern Quotes
There were hundreds of them spread across the floor, each telling its own tale of triumph or sadness, each letter representing a phase in her life. She had kept them all.
Quotes to Explore
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I love New York. It's hard to explain, but it's the energy of the city. It's not like L.A. where everything is spread out.
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If the spectrum linking everyday depression to Major Depression sometimes hinders understanding of it, it also offers an opportunity for empathy. Because almost everyone, at some point, experiences feelings of sadness, of hopelessness, of emptiness, not to mention lethargy and irritability.
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It's a source of great sadness to me that my father died without having seen me do anything worthwhile. He was constantly having to make excuses for me.
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I want to paint something that's gorgeous, something that's perfect. So that it's full of sadness.
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The trouble with boxing is that too often it ends in sadness.
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When the night falls, my lonely heart calls.
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Light has spread, and even bayonets think.
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Piglet opened the letter box and climbed in. Then, having untied himself, he began to squeeze into the slit, through which in the old days when front doors were front doors, many an unexpected letter than WOL had written to himself, had come slipping.
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Some time all kinds of letters will be published to the ineffable delight of endless readers.
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Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain unless you've used up all the other four-letter words.
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We cling to the letter because the spirit is so much harder to master.
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When that ineffable compound of depression, sadness (these two are not the same), anxiety, self-hatred, sense of failure and fear for the future begins to steal over you, start telling yourself that what you have is a hangover. You are not sickening for anything, you have not suffered a minor brain lesion, you are not all that bad at your job, your family and friends are not leagued in a conspiracy of barely maintained silence about what a s**t you are, you have not come at last to see life as it really is and there is no use crying over spilt milk.
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Do not allow your daughters to be taught letters by a man, though he be a St. Paul or St. Francis of Assissium. The saints are in Heaven.
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Each night about this time he puts on sadness like a garment and goes on writing.
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Spread positivity; don't matter how big, or how small.
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It isn't a coincidence that prayer was commanded right after the year of sadness. The prayer was the greatest comfort.
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And hard times are good in their own way, too. Because the only way you can achieve true happiness is if you experience true sadness as well. It's all about light and shade. Balance.
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I'm sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion's strain, But I'm sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew love's pain, Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they crave, For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o'er a grave.
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I figured out that letting ‘the world’ hurt me served a few functions extremely well: It provided me with a kind of nurturing I didn’t otherwise know how to attract, I couldn’t be pinned with total responsibility, and it provided physical pain, a reason to cry that others could understand. So much easier than trying to explain all the accumulated rage and numbness and sadness.
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Protein during promotion trumps the carcinogen, regardless of initial exposure.
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It’s dangerous to assume that because a person is drawn to holiness in his study that he is thereby a holy man. There is irony here. I am sure that the reason I have a deep hunger to learn of the holiness of God is precisely because I am not holy. I am a profane man—a man who spends more time out of the temple than in it. But I have had just enough of a taste of the majesty of God to want more. I know what it means to be a forgiven man and what it means to be sent on a mission. My soul cries for more. My soul needs more.
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I like talking to a brick wall- it's the only thing in the world that never contradicts me!
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There were hundreds of them spread across the floor, each telling its own tale of triumph or sadness, each letter representing a phase in her life. She had kept them all.
