Angel Quotes
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The angel is actually the message himself. His appearance is the message that heaven is intensely concerned with us, and that God cares for us like a father for his children.
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April, the angel of the months, the young love of the year.
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The Father and His angelic hierarchy That made the magnitude and glory there Stood in the circuit of a needle's eye.
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Live among others as if God beheld you; speak to God as if others were listening.
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Two loves I have, of comfort and despair, Which like two spirits do suggest me still: The better angel is a man right fair, The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
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I jumped in the river, what did I see? Black-eyed angels swam with me A moon full of stars and astral cars And all the figures I used to see All my lovers were there with me All my past and futures And we all went to heaven in a little row boat There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt.
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Smell is a fallen angel.
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Angels are thoughts of God--to pray to an angel is to look to a level of pure thinking, divine thinking, and to ask that it replace our thoughts of fear. (Page 27.)
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Trust no friend without faults, and love a woman, but no angel.
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How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins. Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
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I've been told by the BBC that if I make one more offensive remark, anywhere, at any time, I will be sacked. And even the angel Gabriel would struggle to survive with that hanging over his head. It's inevitable that one day, someone, somewhere will say that I've offended them, and that will be that.
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Every time a book opens, an angel coughs up a hairball.
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I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am pretty, but not beautiful. I have friends, but I am not the peacemaker.
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Tryna forgive you for abandonin me Prayin but I think I'm still an angel away
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Are you a lucky little lady in the City of Light? Or just another lost angel... City of Night?
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I'm no angel if that's what you thought you found. I was just the victim of a man that let me down.
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Rainbows is a pretty honest look at my approach to life and love. While I admit to not exactly being an angel, I do try and live life to the fullest and give as much as I can of myself in the process.
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His whole body was completely still, except the wings, which were still fluttering a little, like when someone dies. That's when he finally understood that of all the things the angel had told him, nothing was true. That he wasn't even an angel, just a liar with wings.
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I have spent my life waiting for something to happen,’ she said. ‘And I have come to understand that nothing will. Or it already has, and I blinked during that moment and it's gone. I don't know which is worse — to have missed it or to know there is nothing to miss.’ Falling Angels
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E’en like the passage of an angel’s tearThat falls through the clear ether silently.
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...Vaulted with such ease into his seat, As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds, To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus, And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
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That ain't snow, Mike. That's angel hair. We done died and gone to heaven.
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Throughout much of history, women writers have capitulated to male standards, and have paid too much heed to what Virginia Woolf calls "the angel in the house." She is that little ghost who sits on one's shoulder while one writes and whispers, "Be nice, don't say anything that will embarrass the family, don't say anything your man will disapprove of ..." [ellipsis in original] The "angel in the house" castrates one's creativity because it deprives one of essential honesty, and many women writers have yet to win the freedom to be honest with themselves.
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True Christian is not an angel; he is not a halfangelic being, in whom is no weakness, or blemish, or infirmity: he is nothing of the kind. He is nothing more than a sinner who has found out his sinfulness, and has learned the blessed secret of living by faith in Christ.
