Her Footprints On His Heart Quotes

Heaven really knows what's best for us. Ariana ~ Her Footprints on His Heart ~ Lea Agustina Citra

Respect for humanity! Respect for humanity! If such respect is rooted in the human heart, humanity will eventually establish a social, political, or economic system that reflects it. A civilization is before all else rooted in its substance. At first this was a blind urge for warmth. Then by trial and error man found the way to the fire.
That is probably why, my friend, I have such need of your friendship. I need a companion who - beyond the struggles of reason - respects in me the pilgrim on his way to that fire. I sometimes need to feel the promised warmth ahead of time and to rest somewhere beyond myself in that meeting place that will be ours. [ ... ] Beyond the clumsiness of my words, beyond my defective reasoning, you are ready to see me as a human being. You are ready to honor in me the representative of beliefs, customs, loves. If I differ from you, far from wronging you, I enrich you. You question me as you would a traveler. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

She realized she was smiling so broadly and sincerely that it embarrassed her. But she couldn't make the smile go away. She was just glad no one could see inside her, because her heart suddenly felt so heavy,m only heavy in a good way. And then she noticed the knowing expression on Peter's face, and it seemed like maybe he WAS seeing inside her after all. She pushed his head away so that he couldn't look at her. ~ Tommy Wallach

Um, I think I left my handkerchief on the table," Jane said. "I'll just run down and fetch it. There's no need to wait for me--you go on to bed."
Lisette stopped to stare at her in bewilderment. "Your handkerchief will be perfectly fine where it is. A footman will find it and give it to you in the morning."
"No, I dare not leave it or I'll forget about it in the confusion of our departure." She was already turning to descend the stairs. "And it's my favorite."
Jane didn't stop to see if Lisette believed that nonsense. She just hastened down, trying to figure out how to get Dom alone.
Fortunately, just as she approached the dining room, she heard the duke say from inside, "Sorry to be a wet blanket, old chap, but I shall turn in, too. Lisette and I don't usually rise as early as we did this morning."
"So I've noticed." Then Dom added hastily, "Not that it matters, mind you. Everyone has his own habits."
"Yes, that's true." The duke's puzzled tone showed he was unaware of what his wife had said yesterday about his "habits."
"Don't forget that we must leave as early tomorrow as possible."
"Of course."
"I'm hoping Tristan will have arrived by then, but if not, we'll press on without him."
"Certainly," Max said, rather stiffly now. He probably wasn't used to being ordered about by anyone, even his brother-in-law. "Well, good night, then."
Hearing footsteps approaching, Jane darted quickly into an alcove and waited with heart p ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Oaths be of the heart, and he that breaketh them in open fact is oft, as now, no breaker in truth, for already were they scorned and trampled on by his opposites. ~ E.R. Eddison

Do not stare directly into his eyes!" she warned, in an accent I couldn't place.
"Why not?" I said, but she was already too late. I was staring directly into his eyes too.
"Because they are dreamy, and endless, and magical. And then when you learn what a terrible boy he is, your heart will turn into a black husk of doom."
I blinked off the spell of the boy's eyes.
"Wait, what?" - Nimet Simit and Willa Snap, conversing on the power of Ravenlock Sward's eyes. ~ Richard Due

The problem is that our world and our education remain focused exclusively on external, materialistic values. We are not concerned enough with inner values. Those who grow up with this kind of education live in a materialistic life and eventually the whole society becomes materialistic. But this culture is not sufficient to tackle our human problems. The real problem is here," the Dalai Lama said, pointed to his head.

The Archbishop tapped his chest with his fingers to emphasize the heart as well.

"And here," the Dalai Lama echoed. "Mind and heart.. ~ Dalai Lama XIV

He glances over his shoulder, no doubt hearing my insanely loud shoes stop in their tracks. Then he looks again. It's a double take for the record books.

"I'm out stalking," I call. It doesn't come out the way I'd intended. It's not lighthearted or funny. It comes out like a warning. I'm one scary bitch right now. I hold my hands up to show I'm not armed. My heart is racing.

"Me too," he replies. Another cab cruises past like a shark.

"Where are you actually going?" My voice rings down the empty street.

"I just told you. I'm going out stalking."

"What, on foot?" I come closer by another six paces. "You were going to walk?"

"I was going to run down the middle of the street like the Terminator."

The laugh blasts out of me like bah.I'm breaking one of my rules by grinning at him, but I can't seem to stop.

"You're on foot, after all. Stilts." He gestures at my sky-high shoes.

"It gives me a few extra inches of height to look through your garbage."

"Find anything of interest?" He strolls closer and stops until we have maybe ten paces between us. I can almost pick up the scent of his skin.

"Pretty much what I was expecting. Vegetable scraps, coffee grounds, adult diapers. ~ Sally Thorne

A Hopi Indian named Sun Chief said:
I had learned many English words and could recite part of the Ten Commandments. I knew how to sleep on a bad, pray to Jesus, comb my hair, eat with a knife and fork, and use a toilet. . . . I had also learned that a person thinks with his head instead of his heart. ~ Howard Zinn

Go back?" he thought. "No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!" So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

They sat on the back porch and looked at the stars while Zombie told the story of a queen named Cassiopeia who lived forever on a throne in the sky.
"But her throne's tilted down," Sam said, looking at the constellation. "Won't she fall out?"
Zombie cleared his throat. "She won't fall. Her throne is turned that way so she can keep watch over her realm."
"What's a realm?"
Zombie pressed his hand against Sam's chest.
"This is." Zombie's hand to Sam's heart. "Here. ~ Rick Yancey

Cupid had struck his heart to the core but had forgotten to put even a mere scratch on his beloved's. ~ Jettie Necole

I only bet on what's dearest to a man's heart. Else there is no way to tell if he's bluffing. What a man is willing to risk or not to risk, that's a measure of his soul. ~ Davy Jones

Death has been tolerable to me only because Death has been the Great Democrat, treating all alike. But now Death plays favorites. Zaccur Barstow, can you understand the bitter, bitter jealousy of the ordinary man of-oh, say‚ fifty- who looks on one of your sort? Fifty years . . . twenty of them he is a child, he is well past thirty before he is skilled in his profession. He is forty before he is established and respected. For not more than the last ten years of his fifty he has really amounted to something." Ford leaned forward in the screen and spoke with sober emphasis: "And now, when he has reached his goal, what is his prize? His eyes are failing him, his bright young strength is gone, his heart and wind are‚ not what they used to be. He is not senile yet . . . but he feels the chill of the first frost. He knows what is in store for him. He knows-he knows! ~ Robert A. Heinlein

David furrowed his brow. "I ... I don't understand half of what goes on around me. I don't get jokes or sunsets or poetry, but I know metal." His fingers flexed unconsciously as if he were physically grasping for words. "Beauty was your armor. Fragile stuff, all show. But what's inside you? That's steel. It's brave and unbreakable. And it doesn't need fixing." He drew in a deep breath then awkwardly stepped forward. He took her face in his hands and kissed her.
Genya went regid. I thought she'd push him away. But then she threw her arms around him and kissed him back. Emphatically.
Mal cleared his throat, and Tamar gave a low whistle. I had to bite my lip to stifle a nervous laugh.
They broke apart. David was blushing furiously. Genya's grin was so dazzling it made my heart twist in my chest. ~ Leigh Bardugo

I dreamt I saw a shadow with a burning heart butchering a golden stag, aye. I dreamt of a man without a face, waiting on a bridge that swayed and swung. On his shoulder perched a drowned crow with seaweed hanging from his wings. I dreamt of a roaring river and a woman that was a fish. Dead she drifted, with red tears on her cheeks, but when her eyes did open, oh, I woke from terror. All this I dreamt, and more. ~ George R R Martin

Behavior is a manifestation of what is going on inside. What a person says or does mirrors the heart. "For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks" (Luke 6:45). ~ Tedd Tripp

The situation Larch was thinking of was war, the so-called war in Europe; Larch, and many others, feared that the war wouldn't stay there. ('I'm sorry, Homer,' Larch imagined having to tell the boy. 'I don't want you to worry, but you have a bad heart; it just wouldn't stand up to a war.') What Larch meant was that his own heart would never stand up to Homer Wells's going to war.
The love of Wilbur Larch for Homer Wells extended even to his tampering with history, a field wherein he was an admitted amateur, but it was nonetheless a field that he respected and also loved. (In an earlier entry in the file on Homer Wells – an entry that Dr. Larch removed, for it lent an incorrect tone of voice, or at least a tone of voice unusual for history – Dr. Larch had written: 'I love nothing or no one as much as I love Homer Wells. Period. ~ John Irving

With a calmness born from exhaustion and terror, the shaking of his body stilled, his heart slowing. The cougars were burnished gold in the moonlight, their shapes bright against the damp grey cliff. The two cubs moved across the ragged edge of the rocky outcrop, their mother a stone's throw below. Rich gasped as the female in front jumped to a lower ledge, balancing on the small precipice. She watched him warily, her head moving back and forth as if trying to ascertain what he was, and whether he was worth the bother. ~ Danika Stone

A dog creates, transcribes, a new landscape for you. A dog like Colter sharpens your joy of all the seasons, and for a while, sometimes a long while, such a dog seems capable, by himself alone, of holding time in place--of pinning it, and holding it taught. And then when he is gone, it is as if the world is taken away.

Dogs like that are young for what seems like a very long time....

One you have lost a dog--especially the first you trained from a pup, the one you first set sail into the world with--you can never fully give of yourself to another dog. You can never again look at a dog you love without hedging a tiny bit, if only subconsciously, against the day when that dog, too, must leave. You can never again hunt or enter the future so recklessly, so joyously, with that weight of forethought....

As I sleep restlessly, night after night, or more often, as I lie there awake, I can see him running and I feel guilty that I am not there to honor the birds he is finding... One way or the other, he is still out there running. He will never rest.... I will always want him to know a moment's rest, and peace, and he will always know in his hot heart that the only peace to be gotten is by never resting, by always pushing on.

He is my Colter.... I am still his, and he is still mine. ~ Rick Bass

You've got sunscreen on, right?" ...
"You didn't get your back," Zane said, picking up a bottle of sunscreen and pouring some onto his hand.
Her legs almost gave out and her heart pounded in her ears. Zane Hollander was about to go where no man had gone before and lotion her back. ~ Robin Bielman

However weak we are, however poor, however little our faith, or however small our grace may be, our names are still written on His heart; nor shall we lose our share in Jesus' love. ~ Charles Spurgeon

You haven't a heart! a woman told him on one occasion. She was wrong; he had one. It saw him through his twenty-hour day, when he hourly watched men dying who were meant to live. It enabled him to start anew each morning. He had just enough heart for that, ... ~ Albert Camus

Then when dusk began to settle he would retrace his steps, back to his own world. And on the way home, a loneliness would always claim his heart. He could never quite get a grip on what it was. It just seemed that whatever lay waiting "out there" was all too vast, too overwhelming for him to possibly ever make a dent in. ~ Haruki Murakami

I ground my teeth. "Just when I thought I was getting a handle on this whole Dark One/demon lord/imp thing, you go and throw knockers into the mix. I'm going to have to request that you stop, Adrian. I'm about at my limit of how many impossible things I can believe before breakfast."
He flashed a heart-stoppingly roguish grin at me, his dimples just about bringing me to my knees. "Your middle name wouldn't be Alice, would it?" he asked.
"No, it's Diane, and you're no White Rabbit, so let's just stop pretending we're in Wonderland, OK?"
He laughed and pointed across the tiny square at our destination. I watched him for a moment, seeing a glimpse of the charming, charismatic man he must have been before the demon lord cursed him and leeched away all the softer emotions. ~ Katie MacAlister

But, after one quick trace of his tongue between her lips, he abruptly pulled away and stepped back from her. She was leaning into him so hard he had to put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
Catherine's eyes flew open. Releasing her shoulders, he pointed past her to the books he'd set on the desk.
She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. As she followed Jim, she caught a glimpse of his profile when he picked up the books and slate. There was a smug grin on his face. He was toying with her, teaching her a lesson - that two could play at heating things up and abruptly cooling them down.
Indignation and amusement competed in her as she took her seat beside him and he handed her the paper he'd written. She hadn't set him any homework. He'd done it on his own, printed a brief description of their picnic in short sentences or single words. It was
almost like a poem without rhyme. "Fish swim water. Sky. Trees. Leaves. Eat food. Drink."
She smiled at him. "Very good."
He touched his lips, puckering them in
a kiss, and tapped the signing book.
"Kiss," she said and looked up the sign for it. "Fingers touching thumbs as both
hands come together," the text said. Her cheeks flushed as she read, "trembling slightly to indicate the degree of passion."
Catherine made the movement as she repeated the word aloud. "Kiss."
Jim copied the movement, shaping his lips like hers. He pointed to the slate and offered her the ch ~ Bonnie Dee

Alf pondered his next move. On the one hand, the savages seemed to be responding reasonably well to "How." On the other hand they really weren't making much progress.
At least they're not eating us, he thought.
Ten seconds went by, then twenty, as Alf looked at the older savage, and the older savage looked at Alf. Finally, out of sheer nervousness, and unable to think of what else to do, Alf raised his right hand again. But this time, just as Alf began to speak, the savage rotated his spear from the vertical to the horizontal, pointing it toward Alf's chest. Alf stopped in mid "How," staring at the sharp pink spear tip, inches from his heart.
And the savage spoke.
Poking his spear tip against Alf's chest, he said: "Can we move this conversation along, old chap? I'm getting frightfully tired of "How. ~ Dave Barry

When she finally reached it, she bent forward and looked through the peephole.
Jay was grinning back at her from outside.
Her heart leaped for a completely different reason.
She set aside her crutches and quickly unbolted the door to open it.
"What took you so long?"
Her knee was bent and her ankle pulled up off the ground. She balanced against the doorjamb. "What d'you think, dumbass?" she retorted smartly, keeping her voice down so she wouldn't alert her parents. "You scared the crap out of me, by the way. My parents are already in bed, and I was all alone down here."
"Good!" he exclaimed as he reached in and grabbed her around the waist, dragging her up against him and wrapping his arms around her.
She giggled while he held her there, enjoying everything about the feel of him against her. "What are you doing here? I thought I wouldn't see you till tomorrow."
"I wanted to show you something!" He beamed at her, and his enthusiasm reached out to capture her in its grip. She couldn't help smiling back excitedly.
"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.
He didn't release her; he just turned, still holding her gently in his arms, so that she could see out into the driveway. The first thing she noticed was the officer in his car, alert now as he kept a watchful eye on the two of them. Violet realized that it was late, already past eleven, and from the look on his face, she thought he must have been hoping for a quiet, uneventful eve ~ Kimberly Derting

There's only one way that you'll ever be able to receive this wonderful Comforter is when you believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, confess your sins, repent, have Christian baptism administered to you, and a promise that God will fill you with the Holy Spirit. That's His promise. He cannot go back on That. It's His promise. I've always said, if a person was thoroughly taught, and was repented, and from their heart had believed on God with all that was within them, and when they are baptized, immediately the Holy Spirit will come upon them, because He promised to do so. He promised it. "You shall receive the Holy Ghost, for the promise is unto you."
Quote From:
60-0301 - He Careth For You ~ Rev. William Marrion Branham

I see you have no need of a sword."
"Very difficult, these days, to get them through security," she pointed out without changing expression.
"You're extremely accurate with that weapon."
"With all weapons. My father was an exacting man."
"You're a very dangerous woman, Azami Yoshiie." Sam meant it as an admiring compliment.
One eyebrow raised. Her mouth curved and she flashed a heart-stopping smile. "You have no idea how dangerous." She said his own words right back to him and he believed her.
"And you're as adept with a sword as you are with your other weapons?" he asked curiously.
"More so," she admitted with no trace of bragging - simply stating a fact. "I said so, didn't I?"
Sam turned on his heel and strode toward her purposefully. "I'm about to kiss you, Ms. Yoshiie. I'm fully aware I'm breaching every single international law of etiquette there is, and you might, rightfully, stick that knife of yours in my gut, but right at this moment I don't particularly give a damn."
Her eyes widened, but she didn't move. He'd known she wouldn't. She was every bit as courageous as any member of his team. She would stand her ground.
Thorn moistened her lips. "It might be your heart," she warned truthfully.
"Still, I have no choice here. I really don't. So pull the damn thing out and be ready."
She felt her body go liquid with heat, a frightening reaction to a woman of absolute control. "If you're going to do it, you'd best m ~ Christine Feehan

Life was rich with possibility, or life was possibly rich...She felt incandescent with the news.
Cold sun. Jack in the pulpits nosing out of the still-frozen mud. Lotto lay watching the world incrementally wake up. They had been married for seventeen years, she lived in the deepest room in his heart, and sometimes that meant that wife occurred to him before Mathilde, helpmeet before herself, abstraction of her before the physical being.
But not now. When she came across the veranda, he saw Mathilde all of the sudden, the dark whip at the center of her, how, so gently, she flicked it and kept him spinning. She put her cold hand on his stomach, which he was sunning to banish the winter's white. 'Vain,' she said.
'An actor in a playwright's hide,' he said. 'I'll never not be vain.'
'Oh well, it's you,' she said. 'You're desperate for the love of strangers, to be seen.'
'You see me,' he said. And he heard the echo with his thoughts a minute before and was pleased.
'I do,' she said. 'Now please, talk.'
She stretched her arms over heads...she looked at him, savoring her own knowing, his unknowing... ~ Lauren Groff

The wheels of the cars stormed underneath. Woods and pastures ran up and receded, the rails of sidings sheathed in rust, the dipping racing wires, and on the right the blue of the Sound, deeper, stronger than before. Then the enameled shells of the commuters' cars, and the heaped bodies of junk cars, the shapes of old New England mills, with narrow, austere windows; villages, convents; tugboats moving in the swelling fabric-like water; and then plantations of pine, the needles on the ground of a life-giving russet color. So, thought Herzog, acknowledging that his imagination of the universe was elementary, the novae bursting and the worlds coming into being, the invisible magnetic spokes by means of which bodies kept one another in orbit. Astronomers made it all sound as though the gases were shaken up inside a flask. Then after many billions of years, light-years, this childlike but far from innocent creature, a straw hat on his head, and a heart in his breast, part pure, part wicked, who would try to form his own shaky picture of this magnificent web. ~ Saul Bellow