Bilva Fruit Quotes

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavor and dispute;
Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, fruit. ~ Omar Khayyam

I eat healthy most of the time. Whole foods are the best for you when you are super active, so I get plenty of fruits and veggies to keep me energized. ~ Witney Carson

Patience is bitter, but bears a sweet fruit. ~ Idries Shah

Several ripe persimmons Left on the branches; Gray clouds come and go. ~ Santoka Taneda

Whenever we accept an idea as authority instead of as instrument, an idol is set up. We worship the plough, and not the fruit. ~ Walter Lippmann

Love for God is the farthest reach of all stations, the sun of the highest degrees, and there is no station after that of love, except its fruit and its consequences. ~ Al-Ghazali

Why not go out on a limb? Isn't that where the fruit is? ~ Frank Scully

The forest reveals what was in the seed.
The hen reveals what was in the egg.
The storm reveals what was in the clouds.
The light reveals what was in the star.

The perfume reveals what was in the flower.
The honey reveals what was in the bee.
The fruit reveals what was in the tree.
The rose reveals what was in the thorn.

The web reveals what was in the spider.
The butterfly reveals what was in the caterpillar.
The venom reveals what was in the serpent.
The pearl reveals what was in the oyster.

The diamond reveals what was in the rock.
The flame reveals what was in the spark.
The nest reveals what was in the bird.
The roar reveals what was in the lion.

The leaf reveals what was in the plant.
The fire reveals what was in the wood.
The droplet reveals what was in the ocean.
The rainbow reveals what was in the storm.

The ocean reveals what was in the shark.
The desert reveals what was in the camel.
The sky reveals what was in the eagle.
The jungle reveals what was in the elephant.

The team reveals what was in the coach.
The flock reveals what was in the shepherd.
The crew reveals what was in the captain.
The army reveals what was in the general.

The tower reveals what was in the architect.
The sculpture reveals what was in the sculptor.
The painting reveals what was in the painter.
The ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

I don't return fruit. Fruit's a gamble. I know that going in. ~ Jerry Seinfeld

Our faithful obedience delights his heart. His life in us produces fruit. When we are needy or afraid, he intercedes for us and stands guard over us. Jesus picks us up when we stumble. He forgives us so we can make fresh starts. When we get to know and rely on him, he does all this and much, much more. ~ Jim Reapsome

Girls and women, in their new, particular unfolding, will only in passing imitate men's behavior and misbehavior and follow in male professions. Once the uncertainty of such transitions is over it will emerge that women have only passed through the spectrum and the variety of those (often laughable) disguises in order to purify their truest natures from the distorting influences of the other sex. Women, in whom life abides and dwells more immediately, more fruitfully and more trustingly, are bound to have ripened more thoroughly, become more human human beings, than a man, who is all too light and has not been pulled down beneath the surface of life by the weight of a bodily fruit and who, in his arrogance and impatience, undervalues what he thinks he loves. This humanity which inhabits woman, brought to term in pain and humiliation, will, once she has shrugged off the conventions of mere femininity through the transformations of her outward status, come clearly to light, and men, who today do not yet feel it approaching, will be taken by surprise and struck down by it. One day (there are already reliable signs which speak for it and which begin to spread their light, especially in the northern countries), one day there will be girls and women whose name will no longer just signify the opposite of the male but something in their own right, something which does not make one think of any supplement or limit but only of life and existence: the female human being.

This ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

As surely as the Husbandman made the Vine what it was to be, will He make each branch what it is to be. Our Father is our Husbandman, the Surety for our growth and fruit. [. . .]

He insists upon the truth: Not of itself can the branch bear fruit; except it abide, it cannot bear fruit. "No more can ye, except ye abide in me." [. . .]

Let me learn the lesson. Abiding is to be an act of the will and the whole heart. [ . . . ]

You are the branch. - You need be nothing more. You need not for one single moment of the day take upon you the responsibility of the Vine. You need not leave the place of entire dependence and unbounded confidence.

Abiding in Me is indispensable, for, you know it, of yourselves you can do nothing to maintain or act out the heavenly life. [. . .]

It is the wholehearted surrender in everything to do His will, that gives access to a life in the abiding enjoyment of His love. Obey and abide. [. . .]

The purpose is His, He will carry it out; the fruit is His, He will bring it forth; the abiding is His, He will maintain it. ~ Andrew Murray

The wonder is- given the errant nature of freedom and the burgeoning of texture in time-the wonder is that all the forms are not monsters, that there is beauty at all, grace gratuitous, pennies found, like mockingbird's free fall. Beauty itself is the fruit of the creator's exuberance that grew such a tangle, and the grotesques and horrors bloom from that same free growth, that intricate scramble and twine up and down the conditions of time.

This, then, is the extravagant landscape of the world, given, given with pizzazz, given in good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over. ~ Annie Dillard

Meaningful relationships are worth more than hundred-dollar trees, and they deserve all the time, effort, and energy they need to become strong and beautiful. Then, once the roots are well established, such relationships can continue to grow-even under difficult circumstances. Trust and understanding will nurture the relationship, and eventually, the flowers of love will blossom and bear sweet fruit. ~ Lloyd D. Newell

What?"
Her breathing stuttered at the thought of tasting the sweet cream off his skin. "Nothing."
"No, tell me." He stepped closer.
She shook her head. "Why mint and peach?"
He quirked a crooked smile. "Mint for fresh breath, peach because it's breakfast. You know, fruit."
"I don't think peach ice cream counts as fruit."
"What's that right there?" He pointed to the hunks of frozen orange buried in the mounds of ice cream overflowing his bowl.
"Peach, but
"
"Nuh uh. No but. It's peach. Case closed." He lifted the bowl and took a big bite. ~ Laura Kaye

Vimes stalked gloomily through the crowded streets, feeling like the only pickled onion in a fruit salad. ~ Terry Pratchett

The latest report says the results of an investigation will be released in three or four weeks. That's a long time for fruit flies and the press. ~ Denis Boyles

Our minds work like a garden. It is fertile ground that accepts any and everything we plant. Good or evil, constructive or destructive, our lives will bear the fruit of the seeds we plant in our minds. ~ Iyanla Vanzant

A living body is not a fixed thing but a flowing event, like a flame or a whirlpool: the shape alone is stable, for the substance is a stream of energy going in at one end and out at the other. We are particularly and temporarily identifiable wiggles in a stream that enters us in the form of light, heat, air, water, milk, bread, fruit, beer, beef Stroganoff, caviar, and pate de foie gras. It goes out as gas and excrement - and also as semen, babies, talk, politics, commerce, war, poetry, and music. And philosophy. ~ Alan Watts

There was something about the scent of apple, she thought, that was truly unique to just that fruit-- it really did touch on so many childhood memories. Probably because it was among the first baby foods so many ate.
"This is going to be so very popular," she said thoughtfully. "I might tone down some of the earth notes, maybe bring up some of the brightness."
Dylan observed as she made some exacting adjustments to the dials while simultaneously watching their correlating meters.
Grace took a few quick sniffs, smiled, and then held the nose cup to his face again. He put his hand on hers and drew the cup even closer.
"I think this balance would make a lovely cider or a blend to an organic cinnamon and apple oatmeal," she said.
"Yes," said Dylan, nodding. "Hot from the pan on a cold autumn morning. I can absolutely smell that."
"Let's bring up a spice note, warm up the composition a bit." Watching his face, her left hand still with his, her right hand reaching out to the dials, Grace adjusted the machine, and she could see from his face when she was hitting just the right notes.
Dylan started laughing.
"What?" she asked happily.
"I smell my mother's apple pie." He pressed his warm hand to hers on the cup as he inhaled. "That's amazing!" Then he grabbed her hand and moved the cup toward her. "Here, you have to try this."
Their hands still together, she inhaled. "Oh, this 'is' amazing. Yum." Grace reached for a dial and adjusted i ~ Jeffrey Stepakoff

The nostalgic notion of the family orchards is lovely - all that wholesome fruit for our forebears to sit on the back steps biting into - but basically we were growing it to drink. ~ Barbara Holland

You know those short, brown-toned South American immigrants that pick your fruit, slaughter your meat, and bus your tables? Would you - a respectable person with a middle-class upbringing - ever consider going on a date with one of them? It's a rude question, because it affects to inquire into what everyone gets to know at the cost of forever leaving it unspoken. But if you were to put your unspoken thoughts into words, they might sound something like this: Not only are these people busing the tables, slaughtering the meat, and picking the fruit; they are the descendants of the people who bused the tables, slaughtered the meat, and picked the fruit of the Aztecs and Incas. The Spanish colonisers slaughtered or mixed their blood with the princes, priests, scholars, artisans, warriors, and beautiful women of the indigenous Americas, leaving untouched a class of Morlocks bred for good-natured servility and thus now tailor-made to the demands of an increasingly feudal postindustrial America. That's, by the way, part of the undertow of the immigration debate, the thing that makes an honest appraisal of the issue impossible, because you can never put anything right without first admitting you're in the wrong. ~ Wesley Yang

Wild eyes were another sign. It is something I have seldom seen - the expression of an ecstatic state - though much is foolishly written of them, as if they grew like Jerusalem artichokes along the road. The eyes are black, right enough, whatever their normal color is; they are black because their perception is condensed to a coal, because the touch and taste and perfume of the lover, the outcry of a dirty word, a welcome river, have been reduced in the heat of passion to a black ash, and this unburnt residue of oxidation, this calyx, replaces the pupil so it no longer receives but sends, and every hair is on end, though perhaps only outspread on a pillow, and the nostrils are flared, mouth agape, cheeks sucked so the whole face seems as squeezed as a juiced fruit; I know, for once Lou went into that wildness while we were absorbing one another, trying to kiss, not merely forcefully, not the skull of our skeleton, but the skull and all the bones on which the essential self is hung, kiss so the shape of the soul is stirred too, that's what is called the ultimate French, the furtherest fuck, when a cock makes a concept cry out and climax; I know, for more than once, though not often, I shuddered into that other region, when a mouth drew me through its generosity into the realm of unravel, and every sensation lay extended as a lake, every tie was loosed, and the glue of things dissolved. I knew I wore the wild look then. The greatest gift you can give another human being is ~ William H. Gass

Adversity is like the period of the rain ... cold, comfortless, unfriendly to people and to animals; yet from that season have their birth the flower, the fruit, the date, the rose and the pomegranate. ~ Walter Scott

What brings the karmic result from the patterns of our actions is not our action alone. As we intend and then act, we create [our] karma: so another key to understanding the creation of karma is becoming aware of intention. The heart is our garden, and along with each action there is an intention that is planted like a seed. The result of the patterns of our karma is the fruit of these seeds. ~ Jack Kornfield

Hummingbirds laze around him. Fruit falls out of trees right into his open palms ... I've never felt this relaxed in my life. I keep forgetting my body and then have to go back and get it. ~ Jandy Nelson

How are poets able to unzip what they see around them, calling forth a truer essence from behind a common fact? Why, reading a verse about a pear, do you see past the fruit in so transcendent a way? ~ Elizabeth Berg

Any Brand that does not bear good fruit, will fade away and die! ~ Bernard Kelvin Clive

Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth. ~ Henry David Thoreau

Grow deep roots to harvest rich fruit! When your roots run deep, you cannot help but bear the fruit of the Spirit. ~ Michael Beckwith

Little is to be expected of that day, if it can be called a day, to which we are not awakened by our Genius, but by the mechanical nudgings of some servitor, are not awakened by our own newly acquired force and aspirations from within, accompanied by the undulations of celestial music, instead of factory bells, and a fragrance filling the air
to a higher life than we fell asleep from; and thus the darkness bear its fruit, and prove itself to be good, no less than the light. ~ Henry David Thoreau