Deep Pondering Quotes

Kellan stared up at him with wide eyes.
So strong.
As Vic turned to leave, Kellan almost jumped from the chair to stop him. He didn't doubt that if his ankle hadn't been sprained, he would have. As if Vic had sensed his intentions, he peered over his shoulder.
"Don't worry. I won't be long."
After he'd shut the door, Kellan brought the collar of Vic's shirt to his face and pressed his nose against the fabric. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he remembered how comforting it had been when Vic had carried him. Held me.
A tear leaked from one eye at the realization that no one had touched him with any affection ever since his mom had died. It had been more than eleven years ago when he'd only been eight years old. Kellan sighed. Don't go there. You don't need to anymore.
He had Vale Valley and a new beginning ~ M.M. Wilde

Clearly the work of a master teacher who has deep knowledge of his subject and enormous empathy for his students and his readers. ~ Betty Edwards

When motherhood becomes the fruit of a deep yearning, not the result of ignorance or accident, its children will become the foundation of a new race. ~ Margaret Sanger

You don't want to hurt me,
But see how deep the bullet lies. ~ Kate Bush

When they told me I couldn't sit on the Senate floor with an iPad - that the technology wasn't even permitted - I breathed deep and knew that I was going to have to start pushing. ~ Cory Booker

For Past is never buried-
It just shines with a brighter ray,
Perhaps because now we look at it as a third person
Ushering in a smile with moist eyes
Which is but a reflection of an array of infinite emotions.

Indeed, Past is never buried-
It breathes silently,
Deep inside,
Distant yet alive. ~ Debatrayee Banerjee

One matter Englishmen don't think in the least funny is their happy consciousness of possessing a deep sense of humor. ~ Marshall McLuhan

In sport, as in science, business, and diplomacy, as Scots we understand that we benefit from the deep and diverse partnerships that make up the United Kingdom. ~ Douglas Alexander

People mistake their love of the technology for it being a solution. Social media is the problem, not the solution, in crisis management. It's a problem if you use it to communicate in areas where you're dealing with incredibly intense emotions and very deep conflicts. ~ Eric Dezenhall

Listen to me," Jordan begged urgently, somehow convinced that she would stay alive if she understood how much she meant to him. "Listen to what my life was like before you hurtled into it wearing that suit of armor - Life was empty. Colorless. And then you happened to me, and suddenly I felt feelings I never believed existed, and I saw things I'd never seen before. You don't believe that, do you, darling? But it's true, and I can prove it." His deep voice ragged with unshed tears, Jordan recited his proof: "The flowers in the meadow are blue," he told her brokenly. "The ones by the stream are white. And on the arch, by the arbor, the roses are red."

Lifting her hand to his face, he rubbed his cheek against it. "And that's not all I noticed. I noticed that the clearing by the pavilion - the one where my plaque is - looks like the very same one where we had our duel a year ago. Oh, and darling, there's something else I have to tell you: I love you, Alexandra."

Tears choked his voice and made it a tormented whisper. "I love you, and if you die I'll never be able to tell you that. ~ Judith McNaught

The fountain of my heart dried up within me,
With nought that loved me, and with nought to love,
I stood upon the desert earth alone.
And in that deep and utter agony,
Though then, then even most unfit to die
I fell upon my knees and prayed for death. ~ Charles Robert Maturin

While we are looking for the antidote or the medicine to cure us, that is, the 'new', which can only be found by plunging deep into the Unknown, we have to go on exploring sex, books, and travel, although we know that they lead us to the abyss, which, as it happens, is the only place where the antidote can be found. ~ Roberto Bolano

When he had joined the Freemasons he had experienced the feeling of one who confidently steps onto the smooth surface of a bog. When he put his foot down it sank in. To make quite sure of the firmness of the ground, he put his other foot down and sank deeper still, became stuck in it, and involuntarily waded knee-deep in the bog. ~ Leo Tolstoy

I think every religious person should have a deep sense of respect for other people's religious documents and religious symbols just as we were deeply opposed to the Taliban destroying the two historic buddhas which they blew up. So I think we ought to all oppose burning the Koran. ~ Newt Gingrich

Answer my question, Dresden,' Nicodemus growled. 'What is that?'
'A precaution against getting stuck in deep snow,' I said. 'He's training to be a Saint Bernard.'
'Excuse me?' Nicodemus said.
I mimed covering one of Mouse's ears with my hand and stage-whispered, 'Don't tell him that they don't actually carry kegs of booze on their collars. Break his little heart. ~ Jim Butcher

The renegade strand of hair nipped her eyes once more. With a swift, steady hand, Oscar pushed it away from her face. His fingertip left a trail of fire along her cheek. Camille reached up to help him tuck the strand back, and their fingers met. She knew for certain the flush had returned to her ears.
Oscar dropped his arm and walked to the rail, wrapping his strong hands around the carved wood.
"He is used to having things go his way," Oscar said, his voice low and only for her ears. Camille moved to stand beside hm.
"Have you always done everything he's asked of you?" She was cautious not to come off sounding snide.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the rail tighter, as if to hold something back. Hold something in.
"No."
She hadn't expected him to give her an answer, and certainly not that one.
"No? I don't believe it. What have you done that's gone against his wishes?"
Oscar had been her father's shadow since day one. He'd watched and obeyed William Rowen with the kind of devotion any eager apprentice would show his teacher.
Oscar had been staring at the water, at the mounting churn of the waves. Now he shifted his eyes to her and fixed her with a look so strong and deep, she felt helpless beneath it.
"He asked me to stop associating with you," he answered, still hushed. Camille's eyes watered with mortification and dread. Her father had spoken to Oscar, too. She wiped her sweaty palms on the hips of her trousers.
"B ~ Angie Frazier

I make paper dolls with deep personal issues. ~ Polly M. Law

Holiday binge-buying has deep roots in American culture: department stores have been associating turkey gluttony with its spending equivalent since they began sponsoring Thanksgiving Day parades in the early 20th century. ~ Adam Davidson

I didn't know you involved yourself in political issues."
She glanced at him wryly. "Of course you didn't. You don't know a lot about me."
He scowled as he turned his attention to the circle and watched his mother dance, resplendent in her beautiful buckskins. No, he didn't know a lot about Cecily, but he did know how devastated she'd been to discover he'd paid her way through college, absorbed all her expenses out of pity for her situation. He was sorry for how much that had hurt her. But over the past two years, he'd deliberately distanced himself from her. He wondered why…
"I had dinner with Senator Holden last week," she said conversationally, deliberately trying to irritate him. "He wanted to point me toward some special collections for the museum."
He stared at his mother in the circle, but he was frowning, deep in thought. "I don't like Holden," he said curtly.
"Yes, I know. You'll be delighted to hear that he returned your sentiment," she said with a chuckle at his scowl. ~ Diana Palmer

Love is patient. Love is kind. Love always forgives, trusts, supports, and endures. Love never fails. When every star in the heavens grows cold, and when silence lies once more on the face of the deep, three things will endure: faith, hope, and love. ~ Jim Butcher

The marquess held the weapon out, as formally as if he were passing a sword.
Soberly, Ned accepted it. He placed the sacrificial citrus on the table in front of him, and then with one careful
incision, eviscerated it. He speared deep into its heart, his
hands steady, and then cut it to pieces. Jenny allotted herself one short moment of wistful sorrow for her afterdinner treat gone awry as the juice ran everywhere.
"Enough." She reached out and covered his hand midstab.
"It's dead now," she explained gravely.
He pulled his hand away and nodded. Lord Blakely took back his knife and cleaned it with a handkerchief.
Jenny studied the corpse. It was orange. It was pulpy. It
was going to be a mess to clean up. Most importantly, it gave her an excuse to sit and think of something mystical to say - the only reason for this exercise, really. Lord Blakely
demanded particulars. But in Jenny's profession, specifics were the enemy. ~ Courtney Milan

Whom God would use greatly He will hurt deeply. ~ Aiden Wilson Tozer

It seems to us that one of the deepest divisions between the Russians and the Americans or British, is in their feeling toward their governments. The Russians are taught, and trained, and encouraged to believe that their government is good, that every part of it is good, and that their job is to carry it forward, to back it up in all ways. On the other hand, the deep emotional feeling among Americans and British is that all government is somehow dangerous, that there should be as little government as possible, that any increase in the power of government is bad, and that existing government must be watched constantly, watched and criticized to keep it sharp and on its toes. ~ John Steinbeck

Wonderful art can spring from misery,I'm the last person to deny that.I'd go even further:the best works of art of all time are probably stemmed from the deep human sorrow or hellish frustration,the death of a loved one or a divorce and yes:jealousy.Heartache and impotence as the man-spring for making the unverifiable verifiable and for giving it face.How romantic,beautiful and especially useful pain and misery can be. ~ Esther Verhoef

In spite of the deep-seated craving for love, almost everything else is considered to be more important than love: success, prestige, money, power-almost all our energy is used for the learning of how to achieve these aims, and almost none to learn the art of loving.
Could it be that only those things are considered worthy of being learned with which one can earn money or prestige, and that love, which "only" profits the soul, but is profitless in the modern sense, is a luxury we have no right to spend energy on? ~ Erich Fromm

Feris was taller than the average man and his looks were sinister in the form of long dark hair and deep-set eyes. He had an untouchable, magnetic quality that consumed any beholder whose gaze fell upon him as he spoke, and when he fell silent, his penetrating stare easily defied any predators. ~ Jettie Necole

Ink was black, in inkwells and bottles, in the past. It would get all over your fingers because it would run and flow relentlessly. This inevitable messiness was the flip side of writing. I always felt caught between two kinds of black: that of the dirty and dirtying substance and that of the signs that miraculously emerged from it through the magic of wayward fountain pens, which, when dipped too deep in the inkwell, had a strong tendency to cover the paper with what used to be called "inkblots." Oh, the miracle of a clear and possibly elegant sentence emerging from the sticky ink and wending its way between the blots! It is the black of meaning wrung from the black of matter. (…) Isn't the most profound education the one that was afforded me at my childhood elementary school, the one that divides the ink sharply between thought become Letter and drive turned into splotches and blots? How will those who begin with the darkish gray on the palish gray of computer screens manage? Without the slightest inkblot? Won't they think that thought is just another variation of formlessness, that the intellect is just a thin additional coat of gray over the gray of drive, and drive a mere stripping of the gray of the intellect? Everything in the world is the result of a creative and careful dosing of black as it is projected onto the formidable invariability of white. Anyone who hasn't experienced this, and sooner rather than later, will never learn anything. ~ Alain Badiou

Rachel felt the grief grow so wide and deep it felt like a dark fathomless pool she'd never emerge from. Because there was nothing left to do now, nothing except endure it. ~ Ron Rash

In this book, I have selected seven quantum movies that carry direct healing messages. These movies are powerful because they clearly depict the truth of Jesus' spiritual teachings from A Course in Miracles; they contain the same deep wisdom, light, and love that Jesus demonstrated. Quantum movies propel us into a direct experience that is aligned with the world-changing perspective of quantum physics. The profound lessons from these movies are directly relevant to the core concerns of life; they are helping us to see all of the ego's myriad tricks - the belief in history, ambitions, goals, outcomes, and so forth. The Holy Spirit is now using Hollywood to reach the sleeping mind! Holy Spirit has infiltrated Hollywood!
This book is our prayer to Spirit: Make everything new! Show us the world anew - fresh, clean, and clear! Then we have nothing to worry about. When we trust, listen to, and follow Spirit, it is game over for the ego. Game over for worry, sadness, and anxiety. As Jesus says in the Course, "Trust would settle every problem now!" Happiness is Who We Are Now! ~ David Hoffmeister

When the presence is like thunderstorm , the absence prevail deep dark silence. ~ Upasana Banerjee

There are advantages to being the chairman. One of my favorite perks was picking out an issue and doing what I called a "deep dive." It's spotting a challenge where you think you can make a difference one that looks like it would be fun and then throwing the weight of your position behind it. Some might justifiably call it "meddling." I've often done this just about everywhere in the company. ~ Jack Welch

Conner took a deep breath, "Francesca, I am not going to let you to give your first kiss away in a bet. A first kiss should be special." He leaned down whispering in my ear. "When I do kiss you it is going to mean something. ~ D.C. Gambel

We shouldn't just consider the desire of government to do what it wants to do. We should always consider the resistance of people. The culture of Iranian people doesn't let the government drag people into deep trouble or backlash. Maybe government wants it, but the culture doesn't let it go on. ~ Shirin Ebadi

THERE ARE FEW THINGS as beautiful as a glass bottle filled with deep amber whiskey. Liquor shines when the light hits it, reminiscent of precious things like jewels and gold. But whiskey is better than some lifeless bracelet or coronet. Whiskey is a living thing capable of any emotion that you are. It's love and deep laughter and brotherhood of the type that bonds nations together. Whiskey is your friend when nobody else comes around. And whiskey is solace that holds you tighter than most lovers can. I thought all that while looking at my sealed bottle. And I knew for a fact that it was all true. True the way a lover's pillow talk is true. True the way a mother's dreams for her napping infant are true. But the whiskey mind couldn't think its way out of the problems I had. So I took Mr. Seagram's, put him in his box, and placed him up on the shelf where he belonged. ~ Walter Mosley

Within everyone there is a place, hidden deep inside, which yearns for 'that' kiss. You know the one I mean, the one that sends your senses reeling, leaving you breathless and when you break away, and finally regain your senses, you know you will never see the world in the same light... ~ Virginia Alison

It's not an honest face. It's not a kind face. It's a face made of anger and secrets and lies. From the tight, guarded mouth to the clenched, square jaw to the glossy shimmer of I-dare-you that coats the surface of her eyes, Aimee's face is a scary place for Meghan's gaze to rest. But beneath the gloss, behind the sharpness and tension, deep at Aimee's core, Meghan can see something warm and real. It's the same unnameable thing she saw in the sickroom on the first day of school. It's the same thing she feels pulsing softly deep in her own chest. ~ Madeleine George

It was a cold still afternoon with a hard steely sky overhead, when he slipped out of the warm parlour into the open air. The country lay bare and entirely leafless around him, and he thought that he had never seen so far and intimately into the insides of things as on that winter day when Nature was deep in her annual slumber and seemed to have kicked the clothes off. Copses, dells, quarries and all hidden places, which had been mysterious mines for exploration in leafy summer, now exposed themselves and their secrets pathetically, and seemed to ask him to overlook their shabby poverty for a while, til they could riot in rich masquerade as before, and trick and entice him with the old deceptions. It was pitiful in a way, and yet cheering-even exhilarating. He was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard, and stripped of its finery. He had got down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple. He did not want the warm clover and the play of seeding grasses; the screens of quickset, the billowy drapery of beech and elm seemed best away; and with great cheerfulness of spirit he pushed on towards the Wild Wood, which lay before him low and threatening, like a black reef in some still southern sea. ~ Kenneth Grahame