Author Of Soul Skin Sacred Space Quotes

As we women awaken and actually love our funky chunky bodies, as is, imagine how many consumer industries will go out of business. What freedom and soul free dance lovin' fun! P.S. our ancestral sisters will be sooo proud! ~ Jan Porter

The dancer...knows it takes
Ten sacred years to learn one gesture
Of the wind's caress on the skin of water.

Tonight, in the shadows of our dance,
I tell my soul to grow quiet,
Become lake, reflect unbroken moon.
On the deepest part of the lake,
A solitary fisher paddles his oars.
At the shore, a woman in red sarong
Sings: their longing walks on water. ~ Marjorie M. Evasco

Our bodies should be seen as temporary sacred temples of the soul and our duty to keep our individual one clean. Both internally and externally. Internally this is done by eating the right food; fruit. Thus avoiding any foods that sludge and sully the interior (especially animal products and cooked foods of any kind!). Externally, regular bathes in water will normally suffice, but all fruits can also be massaged into the skin with benefits. The skins of mangos and papaya feel especially pleasant, as does a head/hair bath in lemon juice ~ Mango Wodzak

If you fall for a dark-eyed beauty, pretty as a picture, with lips as sweet as a luscious rasberry, and a gentle face, unrumpled by kisses, like an apple-blossom petal in May, and she becomes your love - then do not say that love is yours: even though you cannot tire of her rounded breasts, of her slender frame that melts in your embrace like wax before a flame. . . . The day will come, that cruel hour will come, the fatal moment will come, when he face will fade, rumpled by kisses, her breasts will no longer quiver at your touch: all this will come to pass; and you will be alone with your own shadow amidst the sunscorched deserts and the dried up springs, where flowers do not bloom and the sunlight plays on the dry skin of a lizard; and you might even see the hairy black tarantula's lair, all enmeshed in the threads of its web . . . And then your thirsting voice will be raised from the sands, calling longingly to your homeland.
---
But if your love is otherwise, if her browless face has once been touched by the black blemish of the pox, if her hair is red, her breasts sagging, her bare feet dirty, and to any extent at all her stomach protrudes, and still she is your love - then that which you have sought and found in her is the sacred homeland of your soul. ~ Andrei Bely

But there is a beauty every girl has - a
gift from God, as pure as the sunlight,
and as sacred as life. It is a beauty that all men love, a virtue that wins all men's souls. That beauty is chastity. Chastity without skin beauty may enkindle the soul; skin beauty without chastity can kindle only the eye. Chastity enshrined in the mold of true womanhood will hold true love
eternally. ~ David O. McKay

My thoughts of you are a rainbow in splashing ocean waves...appearing...disappearing in sacred depths of skies the grasps of mine reach to the highest... Will you, ah, long for kissing me tonight? so I could feel the sweetest pleasure of your lips on mine... As we embrace in our dream, I'll dance your quiet loving tune deeply within. The softness of your gentle touch so ever fine..the painting fingertips caress my dewy glowing skin...and feel my heated inner flesh pulsate...they make my body sing like strings of violin...again.. The warmth of body yours so close... so real is the feeling of your beating heart against my chest...inhaling you is easy... I crave the safety of your soul arms around me. Joint passions together fully blooming, so wild, so intense..it makes time stand still... So kiss me, want tonight with golden, silver light of stars in darkest royal blue of velvet summer skies... To love you ~ I'm yours... I spread this crystal spring-like bliss under your feet...tread softly for you tread upon my dreams.. ~ Oksana Rus

Oh! Dione of Opalescent Skin Ethereal. Your oospheric containment disperses argentous streams of velvety rays that cradle recesses of soul in gossamer of beatific visions.La Luna! Your enigmatic smile. Your watery countenance stirs the imagination and bestows inspiration on those receptive to Your Sacred Gifts. ~ Lady Svetlana

Before we knew it, we were walking along the breakwater until the whole city, shining with silence, speak out at our feet like the greatest mirage in the universe, emerging from the pool of the harbor waters. We sat on the edge of the jetty to gaze at the sight.
This city is a sorceress, you know, Daniel? It gets under your skin and steals your soul without you knowing it. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

If there is no god, what is left but science? What is left to endow us with any grace? You can tell me the chemical makeup of my skin and my brain, but how can you explain away my soul? And if there is no god to watch over me, chastise me, grieve for me, rejoice for me, make me fear, and make me wonder, what am I but a collection of metals and liquids with nothing to celebrate about my daily living? ~ Sharon Shinn

At birth and at dawn
for each and every day
it triumphs over the eclipse.

It is the very first thing that you see.
Its power is blinding at first,
anon it opens our eyes
to the allure of the world.

Each moment it breathes life into us,
warms our souls and colors our skin.

At gloaming it seems to wane,
while it privily awaits a time
to give birth to a new circle of life. ~ Akilnathan Logeswaran

The soul has no skin; the soul only has insides that want to sing, finally, can't you hear it, brothers? softly, can't you hear it, brothers? a hot piece of ass and a new Cadillac ain't going to solve a god-damned thing. ~ Charles Bukowski

I AM ROWING (a hex poem)

i have cursed your forehead, your belly, your life
i have cursed the streets your steps plod through
the things your hands touch
i have cursed the inside of your dreams

i have placed a puddle in your eye so that you cant see anymore
an insect in your ear so that you cant hear anymore
a sponge in your brain so that you cant understand
anymore

i have frozen you in the soul of your body
iced you in the depths of your life
the air you breathe suffocates you
the air you breathe has the air of a cellar
is an air that has already been exhaled
been puffed out by hyenas

the dung of this air is something no one can breathe
your skin is damp all over
your skin sweats out waters of great fear
your armpits reak far and wide of the crypt

animals drop dead as you pass
dogs howl at night their heads raised toward your house
you cant run away
you cant muster the strength of an ant to the tip of your feet

your fatigue makes a lead stump in your body
your fatigue is a long caravan
your fatigue stretches out to the country of nan
your fatigue is inexpressible

your mouth bites you
your nails scratch you
no longer yours, your wife
no longer yours, your brother
the sole of his foot bitten by an angry snake

someone has slobbered on your descendents
someone has droo ~ Henri Michaux

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. People grow old by deserting their ideals. Years wrinkle the skin, but giving up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and despair - these are the long years that bow the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust. You are as young as your faith and as old as your doubts; as young as you self-confidence, as old as your fear; as young as your hope, as old as your despair. ~ James E. Faust

Another sob came, harder than the first, but she couldn't cover her face and her mastectomy scars at the same time when he raised his head. When she tried, Luke merely caught her wrists and lightly pinned them on either side of her head.
"It's all right, Em. Tears are part of this," he whispered, bending to kiss them away. He moved gently within her, another tender caress that soothed as much as it stimulated. It broke the seal on the dam of her tears. They came out in a quiet rush while he stayed above her, eyes on her face as he murmured soothing things she didn't quite catch. And when the tears slowed, she looked up into his handsome face with a sniffle and the smile he gave her filled her heart to overflowing. Dear God she loved him. Had always loved him and would never love another man but him.
Her heart had known it all along. And so had her body.
Still, she tensed when he released one of her wrists to touch the skin beneath her right collarbone. Luke shook his dark head, those liquid eyes looking right into her soul. "I won't let you hide from me. Or from yourself." Embedded deep inside her, he raised his upper body to gaze at her, and all she could do was close her eyes in resistance. "Look at me."
After a long hesitation, she did.
He stared down at her with a powerful mixture of tenderness and hunger. "You think a scar's going to change how I see you? Feel about you?"
She swallowed and struggled to find her voice. "It's ugly."
"You' ~ Kaylea Cross

I was naked under his gaze. Skin was just that: skin. But to see your soul stripped, laid bare for the eyes of someone you barely knew-that was terrifying. ~ Whitney Barbetti

Edin Viso's poetry and prose bear the obvious marks of dark drama-of a soul variously splayed apart and cinched back together...This is a book of psalms-at once craggy and rough as the Balkan landscape, and sublime as sunrise on the Aegean Sea. There are calluses on the palms, dried blood on the knuckles, and dirt under the fingernails of these pieces. And there is grace...Edin is a poet who knows the value of a blanket, a single orange, a moment shared...He is a man who is unafraid, and who does, in the pages before you, "take off his skin and dance in his bones.". ~ Stephen T. Berg

I'm 100% certain of the quality of story I'm writing until I finish the outline and actually begin to write. At this point, I'm 100% certain the story sucks and I will never show it to another living soul. Until I type "THE END." At this point, I'm 50% certain it sucks, 50% certain it's brilliant, and 100% certain if I don't show it to someone I will spontaneously combust. ~ Renee Miller

Song
Allen Ginsberg

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human -
looks out of the heart
burning with purity -
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love -
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
- cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

- must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.

The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye -
**
yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was bor ~ Allen Ginsberg

Never ever feel inferior because of the colour of your skin. Great is your soul. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

She never understood that love
especially that of a child
was the most necessary weight you can endure in life, even if it hurts, even if it tugs bags under the skin of your eyes. Without it, the soul skitters to the edge of the world and teeters there, confused. ~ Tiffany Baker

Overall my race hasn't been a problem. I'm a Black artist with White skin. At the end of the day you have to sing what's in your own soul. ~ Teena Marie

An envious man waxeth lean with the fatness of his neighbors. Envy is the daughter of pride, the author of murder and revenge, the beginner of secret sedition and the perpetual tormentor of virtue. Envy is the filthy slime of the soul; a venom, a poison, or quicksilver which consumeth the flesh and drieth up the marrow of the bones. ~ Socrates

I always hated when people told me not to aspire to certain things because I was a woman. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be told this simply because of my skin color. One of the many things I've learned is that when you've been holed up in a safe house with someone who doesn't look like you or speak the same language, but who was ready to break bread with you and even fight by your side - you quickly realized that there were a lot more important things to gripe about. At the end of the day, people were just people - blood, sweat and tears, heart and soul. ~ Alesha Escobar

Nothing has changed.
The body is susceptible to pain,
It must eat and breath air and sleep,
It has thin skin and blood right underneath,
An adequate stock of teeth and nails,
Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable.
In tortures all this is taken into account.

Nothing has changed.
The body shudders as it is shuddered
Before the founding of Rome and after,
In the twentieth century before and after Christ.
Tortures are as they were, it's just the earth that's grown smaller,
And whatever happens seems on the other side of the wall.

Nothing has changed.
It's just that there are more people,
Besides the old offenses, new ones have appeared,
Real, imaginary, temporary, and none,
But the howl with which the body responds to them,
Was, and is, and ever will be a howl of innocence
According to the time-honored scale and tonality.

Nothing has changed.
Maybe just the manners, ceremonies, dances,
Yet the movement of the hands in protecting the head is the same.
The body writhes, jerks, and tries to pull away
Its legs give out, it falls, the knees fly up,
It turns blue, swells, salivates, and bleeds.

Nothing has changed.
Except of course for the course of boundaries,
The lines of forests, coasts, deserts, and glaciers.
Amid these landscapes traipses the soul,
Disappears, comes back, draws nearer, moves a ~ Wisława Szymborska

You don't know me inside and out. You may have gotten in my skin, but you have never gotten inside my heart. Go ahead, Barrons, make me slice and dice myself. Go ahead, play games with me. Push me around. Lie to me. Bully me. Be your usual constant jackass self. Stalk around all broody and pissy and secretive, but you're wrong about me. There's something inside me you'd better be afraid of. And you can't touch my soul. You will never touch my soul! ~ Karen Marie Moning

One doesn't want appreciation... one wants response. To tell you the truth, I don't know what I want of you, or of anybody for that matter. I want more than I get, that's all I know. I want you to step out of your skin - I want everybody to strip down, not just to the flesh, but the soul. ~ Henry Miller

Heartache may be bad for the soul, but it's great for bookshops. It's when we are at our lowest romantic ebb that we are likely to do the bulk of our life's reading. Adolescents who can't get a date are in a uniquely privileged position: they will have the perfect chance to get grounding in world literature. There is perhaps an important connection between love and reading, there is perhaps a comparable pleasure offered by both.

A feeling of connection may be at the root of it. There are books that speak to us, no less eloquently - but more reliably - than our lovers. They prevent the morose suspicion that we do not fully belong to the human species, that we lie beyond comprehension. Our embarrassments, our sulks, our feelings of guilt, these phenomena may be conveyed on a page in a way that affords us with a sense of self-recognition. The author has located words to depict a situation we thought ourselves alone in feeling, and for a few moments, we are like two lovers on an early dinner date thrilled to discover how much they share (and unable to touch much of the seafood linguine in front of them, so busy are they fathoming the eyes opposite), we may place the book down for a second and stare at its spine with a wry smile, as if to say, "How lucky I ran into you. ~ Alain De Botton

Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world
Lord Loss seeds the grief-starched trees
In the center of the web, lowly Lord Loss bows his head
Mangled hands, naked eyes
Fanged snakes his soul line
Curled inside like textured sin
Bloody, curdled sheets for skin
In the center of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead
Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls
Dispensing pain, despising all
Shuns friends, nurtures foes
Ravages hope, breeds woe
Drinks moons, devours suns
Twirls his thumbs till the reaper comes
In the center of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that's left ~ Darren Shan

Give yourself to me, Gemma, and you will never be alone again. You'll be worshiped. Adored. Loved. But you must give yourself to me- a willing sacrifice.'
Tears slip down my face. 'Yes,' I murmur.
Gemma, don't listen,' Circe says hoarsely, and for a moment, I don't see Eugenia; I see only the tree, the blood pumping beneath its pale skin, the bodies of the dead hanging from it like chimes.
I gasp, and Eugenia is before me again. 'Yes, this is what you want, Gemma. Try as you might, you cannot kill this part of yourself. The solitude of the self taht waits just under the stairs of your soul. Always there, no matter how much you've tried to get rid of it. I understand. I do. Stay with me and never be lonely again.'
Don't listen... to that... bitch,' Circe croaks, and the vines tighten around her neck.
No, you're wrong,' I say to Eugenia as if coming out of a long sleep. 'You couldn't kill this part of yourself. And you couldn't accept it, either.'
I'm sure I don't know what you mean.' she says, sounding uncertain for the first time.
That's why they were able to take you. They found your fear.'
And what, pray, was it?'
Your pride. You couldn't believe you might have some of the same qualities as the creatures themselves.'
I am not like them. I am their hope. I sustain them.'
No. You tell yourself that. That's why CIrce told me to search my dark corners. So I wouldn't be caught off guard.'
Circe laughts, a splintered ca ~ Libba Bray

You are on the inside. Deep in your muscles. That's you. The body is the extension of you. Only give someone your fingers, your skin, and toes if they deserve to touch your soul. ~ Rebecca Maizel

If you ask all the cells
in my body,
they only answer your name.
Follicles push the hair upwards
so they may brush
against your skin.
Nails grow faster as well.
Lungs breathe rapidly
in hopes of inhaling your scent.
Toes curl to smile and
knees form dimples when you are near.
Brain fireworks.
Stomach fills with flies of butter
and swallows, and
swans swoon.
Cattle, rhinos, and walruses too -
there's a stampede when you are near.
I love you from the bottom of my liver
to the tip of my lashes.
One wink from you and heart stops,
like a sneeze. Bless you.
I cannot even begin to tell you
what happens to soul,
for soul is off
flying with its mate. ~ Kamand Kojouri

I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was exhaled by many before me. The air that bore them life. And so how can I ever say that I am alone? ~ C. JoyBell C.

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel, feel what its like to be new
And I cannot guess what we'll discover
When we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels
But I know our filthy hands can wash one another's
And not one speck will remain
And I do believe it's true
That there are roads left in both of our shoes
But if the silence takes you
Then I hope it takes me too
So brown eyes I hold you near
Cause you're the only song I want to hear ~ Death Cab For Cutie

The books the Holy Spirit is writing are living, and every soul a volume in which the divine author makes a true revelation of his word, explaining it to every heart, unfolding it in every moment. ~ Jean-Pierre De Caussade

Part of my soul goes into each quote I write. A book of my quotes can be yours for just $19.99. ~ Ryan Lilly

A Human Face I love to view and trace the passions of the soul. On it the spirit writes anew each thought and feeling on a scroll. There the mind it's evil doing tells, and there it's noblest deeds do speak; just as the ringing of the bells proclaims a knell or wedding feast.-author unknown ~ Spencer W. Kimball

I twined the bracelet together, letting it hover mere inches from his skin. I had no expectation, no method, no strategy. I was blind and clinging to a bruised piece of hope. But it was all I had.
"You once said your soul could never forget mine," I said, sliding the mended bracelet around his wrist. "Do you remember now?"
He inhaled sharply, like something had rent through him. Around his wrist, the bracelet glowed like a caught star.
"Jaani," he breathed, staring at me. ~ Roshani Chokshi

His soul is talking to mine, and I feel the warmth of his stare heat my skin. "I need to know you're by my side every night. Those three days you were in the hospital and wouldn't wake up made me realize how much I need you to live. If something would have happened to you ... " he takes a trembling breath " ... I wouldn't be strong enough to make it without you. I love you so damn much, Tru, and I know this might be fast for you, but you're my forever. ~ R.D. Cole

It is more beautiful to trust in God. The beautiful in this world is all from his hand, declaring the perfection of taste; he is the author of all form; he clothes the lily, he colours the rose, he distils the dewdrop, he makes the music of nature; in a word, he organized us for this life, and imposed its conditions; and they are such guaranty to me that, trustful as a little child, I leave to him the organization of my Soul, and every arrangement for the life after death. I know he loves me. ~ Lew Wallace

Make time to go outside and breath the fresh air. Feel the cold air tickle your skin. Let the hot sun warm the back of your neck. See the movement of nature all around you. You need to experience the flurry of action. Absorb the life. Feed your soul with the energy of the nature that surrounds you. ~ Avina Celeste

Writing is the knitting of the soul ~ Khaled Talib

Reality is based on your perception of the truth.

Think about that statement for a bit, it will blow your mind, and blow the lid of what you perceive to be real and what is an illusion.

You are here to live YOUR life, YOUR way and on YOUR terms, not for the people you work for, not the people in the media, and not to live in the little box that society may have placed you in.

You are a unique individual, with talents, with drive, with passion, with ambition, with love, with laughter, with a soul that could melt the hardest of hearts, and with a mind as creative as Da Vinci.

You chose this life for a reason, and it certainly wasn't to live a reality created by others. Is this the time to stand up, and say I can live my own reality, create what I want for my own life, have the things I want in life without guilt, knowing that you deserve anything you want and are prepared to put the time and effort into getting?

What if there was a way to bend your reality, a way to use your mind consciously to get what YOU want in life, become wealthy, feel comfortable in your own skin, meet the perfect man or woman, become more spontaneous, feel free, love, be open, be honest, be heartfelt, be grateful, be the one, love life, live, feel it, breathe it.... Welcome to Mind Alchemy Is this the time to Bend Your Reality? ~ Steven Aitchison

The Heart is the engine, the Brain is the steering wheel, and the Mind is the essence of the Body. ~ Serena Jade

The short and obscene sentence of Poseidonius about the rubbing together of two small pieces of flesh, which I have seen you copy in your exercise books with the application of a good schoolboy, does no more to define the phenomenon of love than the cord touched by the finger accounts for the infinite miracle of sounds. Such a dictum is less an insult to pleasure than to the flesh itself, that amazing instrument of muscles, blood, and skin, that red-tinged cloud whose lightning is the soul. ~ Marguerite Yourcenar

But you are not one of us. For you, this thing is irreversible except by death, and not only the flesh is altered. Only the strongest of you can resist the collapse of the soul into the form; the mind is lazy, it naturally imitates the body. I have known none of you yet who can remain human when they wear another skin. But the thing is yours to do, if you should wish to do it. ~ Catherynne M Valente

Frankie wants me dirty. Real.
And I want her.
Any way I can fucking have her.
She belongs to me.
Frankie Helburn is mine.
She isn't under my skin. She's fucking torched it. My flesh burns for her. She's the flame and the balm, both painful and soothing. I want more of her.
All of her.
She owns me. Body. Soul. Bloody hands, along with whatever the fuck is left of my heart. It's hers. All of it.
I'm not just obsessed or consumed by Frankie Helburn.
I lift her into my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist and our lips crash together.
She's part of me. ~ T.M. Frazier