Soul Quotes
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Your breath touched my soul and I saw beyond all limits.
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I see myself as an intelligent, sensitive human, with the soul of a clown which forces me to blow it at the most important moments.
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Michael [Jackson] reconstructed his face and deconstructed the African features into a spooky European geography of fleshly possibilities, and yet what we couldn't deny, that even as his face got whiter and whiter his music got Blacker and Blacker. His soul got more deeply rooted in the existential agony and the profound social grief that Black people are heir to.
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Be on guard, my soul, of complicating your environment so that you have neither time nor room for growth!
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Synthesizers were looked at as stealing the soul of music, but then there were these new bands who used it to contradict that idea.
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I knew there was only one place to go. I sank down into the center of my soul, grew still, and listened to the Rabbi's heartbeat.
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Prayer is the opening of the soul to God so that he can speak to us.
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A few little flowers will spring up briefly in the dry gulley through which torrents of water pass occasionally. But it is steady streams that bring thick and needed crops. In the agriculture of the soul that has to do with nurturing attributes, flash floods are no substitute for regular irrigation.'
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When a great adventure is launched with a powerful thrust, fatigue in the muscles and doubts in the mind are swept away by a fullness that moves life along like a breath from the depths of the soul.
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I read Mailer's Ancient Evenings with great interest because I was interested in . . . the seven souls structure, which was very helpful to me in Western Lands. And also in Place of Dead Roads. So that's Mailer.
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The magnetic force is animate, or imitates a soul; in many respects it surpasses the human soul while it is united to an organic body.
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I hate click tracks. I'm to busy in the click track to feel my own heart rhythm, my own soul beat.
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For as the eyes of bats are to the blaze of day, so is the reason in our soul to the things which are by nature most evident of all.
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To Aquinas the intellect stands at the summit of ... the human soul.
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When I was a kid, I liked the newer music that was coming out. I have never really felt confined by any style of music. I would play in bands that were soul bands or that played standards - any kind of music that I enjoyed playing.
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I beg you take courage; the brave soul can mend even disaster.
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There's no greater tragedy than an equal intensity, in the same soul or the same man, of the intellectual sentiment and the moral sentiment. For a man to be utterly and absolutely moral, he has to be a bit stupid. For a man to be absolutely intellectual, he has to be a bit immoral.
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My wails of sorrow are tormenting my soul
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And in this passion for understanding her soul lay close to his; she had him all to herself. But he must be made abstract first.
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We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature - trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls.
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The rising and falling of the scales of pride and humility sustain the brooding mind as well as the alternations of desire and peace of the soul.
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We have all of us free access to all that is great, and good, and happy, and carry within ourselves a key to all the treasures that heaven has to bestow upon us. We starve in the midst of plenty, groan under infirmities, with the remedy in our own hand; live and die without knowing and feeling anything of the One only God, whilst we have it in our power to know and enjoy it in as great a reality as we know and feel the power of this world over us; for Heaven is as near to our souls as this world is to our bodies; and we are created, we are redeemed, to have our conversation in it.
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For some of us, the soul is resident in the sole, and yearns ceaselessly for light and air and self-expression. Our feet are our very selves. The touch of floor or carpet, grass or mud or asphalt, speaks to us loud and clear from the foot, that scorned and lowly organ as dear to us as our eyes and ears.
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Every building must have... its own soul.
