My Heart Quotes
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My heart stutters—not why? or how?—those are not the important questions. The really important question is: by whom?
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My heart is too thoroughly dried to be broken in a hurry, and I mean to live as long as I can.
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You cheer my heart, who build as if Rome would be eternal.
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Should anyone knock at my heart and say, 'Who lives here?' I should reply, 'Not Martin Luther, but the Lord Jesus Christ.'
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This deranged jungle of ironies coinhabits my skull like feathers and fireworks. My heart fills with stones. I am the mad aunt who laughs her head off at the funeral. There rises in me the most inappropriate hysteria in this most somber of places.
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The music that I make is pretty sincere; it's from my heart and I love it, and what just happened is more people have started to connect with my heart, and I haven't followed some kind of marketing scheme.
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My short stories are like soft shadows I have set out in the world, faint footprints I have left. I remember exactly where I set down each and every one of them, and how I felt when I did. Short stories are like guideposts to my heart.
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We left him there. Louie. We left him.” I watched my father lean into his own arms and sob. There was something about the sound of a man in pain that resembled the sound of a wounded animal. My heart was breaking. All this time, I’d wanted my father to tell me something about the war and now I couldn’t stand to see the rawness of his pain, how new it was after so many years, how that pain was alive and thriving just beneath the surface.
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My heart is forever in Giverny.
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This very deep, soothing voice came on, saying: "You now have permission to be strong and healthy and calm and relaxed. There's no place else to go. There's nothing else to do." I could feel it in every cell of my body, and I immediately realized, there's something here. I could feel my heart rate slow down. I could feel stress melting out of my body.
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Thinking about what songs are coming next instead of just relaxing, breathing and playing from my heart. Sometimes it can get to be almost like the enemy.
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And I'm up while the dawn is breaking, even though my heart is aching. I should be drinking a toast to absent friends instead of these comedians.
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… I would rather go out of politics having the feeling that I had done what was right than stay in with the approval of all men, knowing in my heart that I have acted as I ought not to.
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As my heart comes undone, somewhere in the loss and the horror is the overdue liberty of relief.
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Tell me a fact, and I'll learn. Tell me a truth, and I'll believe. But tell me a story, and it will live in my heart forever.
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It's the world's smallest violin, playing 'My Heart Pumps Purple Piss for You.'
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My heart is with Hillary Clinton.
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I gave thee what could not be heard What had not been given before The beat of my heart I gave !
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This paper will serve instead of a confidential friend into whose ear I might pour forth the overflowings of my heart. It will not sympathize with my distresses, but then, it will not laugh at them, and, if I keep it close, it cannot tell again; so it is, perhaps, the best friend I could have for the purpose.
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Be kind. Aim for my heart.
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I had it in my heart. I believed in myself, and I had confidence. I knew how to do it, had natural talent and I pursued it.
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God is God. I dethrone Him in my heart if I demand that He act in ways that satisfy my idea of justice. It is the same spirit that taunted, "If Thou be the Son of God, come down from the Cross." There is unbelief, there is even rebellion, in the attitude that says, "God has no right to do this to five men unless...
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God is God. I dethrone Him in my heart if I demand that he act in ways that satisfy my idea of justice.
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I believe with all my heart God's Story has a happy ending. . . But not yet, not necessarily yet. It takes faith to hold on to that in the face of the great burden of experience, which seems to prove otherwise.
