My Pure Heart Quotes

Lord, I don't want to entertain sin in my heart. I want my heart to be right before You so that You will always hear my prayers. I know I don't do everything perfectly, so I ask that by the power of Your Holy Spirit You will enable me to keep my heart pure and my hands clean. Thank You for loving me and helping me do what is right in Your sight. ~ Stormie O'martian

It's breaking my heart the way this world is so mean to people with pure intentions and soft hearts.
With time I've seen much cruelty towards good people that instead of being cherished, they are actually being used.
Instead of being appreciated and valued, they are being taken for granted and considered as an option or a backup plan.
Because whenever those ones are needed they gonna be there and their doors are always wide open.
So there is no need to wonder why this world is only getting filthier and uglier. Since we have always been ruining everything beautiful left around .
even those rare, kind and loving souls in our life... ~ Samiha Totanji

Let me go now, Lucan."

"I can't do that." He took her hand and lifted it to his lips. His mouth was warm and soft on her fingertips, weaving a spell around her as only he could do. He brought her hand closer, pressing her palm to his chest, to the heavy throb that beat against his ribs like a drum. "I can't ever let you go, Gabrielle. Because whether you want it from me or not, you have my heart. You have my love, too. If you'll accept it."

She swallowed hard. "What?"

"I love you." The words were low and earnest, a caress she felt deep inside of her. "Gabrielle Maxwell, I love you more than life itself. I've been alone for so long, I didn't know enough to recognize that until it was nearly too late." He stopped talking then, searching her eyes intently. "It's not . . . too late, is it?"

He loved her. Joy, pure and bright, poured through her to hear those words coming from Lucan.
"Say it again," she whispered, needing to know that this moment was real, that it would last.

"I love you, Gabrielle. With every ounce of life in me, I love you. ~ Lara Adrian

As I stood in contemplation of the garden of the wonders of space," Milosz writes, "I had the feeling that I was looking into the ultimate depths, the most secret regions of my own being; and I smiled, because it had never occurred to me that I could be so pure, so great, so fair! My heart burst into singing with the song of grace of the universe. All these constellations are yours, they exist in you; outside your love they have no reality! How terrible the world seems to those who do not know themselves! When you felt so alone and abandoned in the presence of the sea, imagine what solitude the waters must have felt in the night, or the night's own solitude in a universe without end!" And the poet continues this love duet between dreamer and world, making man and the world into two wedded creatures that are paradoxically united in the dialogue of their solitude. ~ Gaston Bachelard

By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled out the remarkable person who sits here in front of me, and gave him the tools for the job! It is Voldemort's fault that you were able to see into his thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understand the snakelike language in which he gives orders, and yet, Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort's world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!"
"Of course I haven't!" said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!"
"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dumbledore loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your heart's desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in that mirror? Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not! ~ J.K. Rowling

When I was looking for the key to open the deepest chamber of your heart, I found that secret key of pure love hidden in my heart. ~ Debasish Mridha

But later, by the help of the water of new birth, the stain of former years was washed away, and a light from above - serene and pure - was infused into my reconciled heart. Then through the Spirit breathed from heaven, a second birth restored me to a new man. ~ Cyprian

I closed my eyes, flared my nostrils, and let the scents flood in. The strongest of them, caramel and brown sugar, smell as yellow-orange as the sun, came first. That one was easy. The one that anyone would notice coming into the shop. And then chocolate of course, the bitter dark and the sugary milk chocolate. I don't think a normal girl would've smelled anything else, and part of me wanted to stop there. But I could feel Sam's heart pounding behind me, and for once, I gave in.
Peppermint swirled into my nostrils, sharp as glass, then raspberry, almost too sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple, crisp and pure. Nuts, buttery, warm, earthy, like Sam. The subtle, mild scent of white chocolate. Oh, God, some sort of mocha, rich and dark and sinful. I sighed with pleasure, but there was more. The butter cookies on the shelves added a floury, comforting scent, and the lollipops, a riot of fruit scents too concentrated to be real. The salty bite of pretzels, the bright smell of lemon, the brittle edge of anise. Smells I didn't even know names for. I groaned. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Surely God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart. But as for me, my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold. For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked. ~ Anonymous

Seeing her look at me this way causes my soul to leap from its rest and give of what I too have been feeling. Her eyes compare to that still river raising light from the moon that passes through the sky. I am now as indestructible and as fragile as I've ever been as she reaches out for me to grab her and hold her tightly. The burning inside of me initiates a pure joy and peace that I haven't felt in so long. To love and be loved has become the most incredible experience ever granted unto me. She is now my every breath and the very beating of my heart. I hold her close as the tense weave of my muscles break free and give warmth to every part of her. ~ Luccini Shurod

It's my first glimpse at my old self, and my heart constricts in pure longing for the girl I was. She's catty and shallow, but only because she hasn't learned how to like herself. How can she not see how beautiful she is, how special? ~ Cristin Terrill

Certainly not! I didn't build a machine to solve ridiculous crossword puzzles! That's hack work, not Great Art! Just give it a topic, any topic, as difficult as you like..."
Klapaucius thought, and thought some more. Finally he nodded and said:
"Very well. Let's have a love poem, lyrical, pastoral, and expressed in the language of pure mathematics. Tensor algebra mainly, with a little topology and higher calculus, if need be. But with feeling, you understand, and in the cybernetic spirit."
"Love and tensor algebra?" Have you taken leave of your senses?" Trurl began, but stopped, for his electronic bard was already declaiming:

Come, let us hasten to a higher plane,
Where dyads tread the fairy fields of Venn,
Their indices bedecked from one to n,
Commingled in an endless Markov chain!

Come, every frustum longs to be a cone,
And every vector dreams of matrices.
Hark to the gentle gradient of the breeze:
It whispers of a more ergodic zone.

In Reimann, Hilbert or in Banach space
Let superscripts and subscripts go their ways.
Our asymptotes no longer out of phase,
We shall encounter, counting, face to face.

I'll grant thee random access to my heart,
Thou'lt tell me all the constants of thy love;
And so we two shall all love's lemmas prove,
And in bound partition never part.

For what did Cauchy know, or Christoffel,
Or Fourier, or any Boole or Euler, ~ Stanisław Lem

[The Devil] My dream is to become incarnate, but so that it's final, irrevocable, in some fat, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound merchant's wife, and to believe everything she believes. My ideal is to go into a church and light a candle with a pure heart
by God, it's true. That would put and end to my sufferings. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I realized that I love him pure and simple. It's not a matter of logic or function. It's a matter of my heart. ~ T.J. Klune

Heaven's Door"

I'd search the world for Heaven's Door,

Over mountains and valleys, each sandy shore.

I'd find the stairway, soaring through clouds,

I'd climb each step, without making a sound.

I'd arrive at the door of glimmering gold,

I'd slip through unnoticed, not stirring a soul.

I'd gasp at its beauty, at its rivers and trees,

I'd stray from the paths, I'd hide among leaves.

I'd tiptoe unseen, under sun and sky blue,

I'd search every corner until I found you.

I'd capture a tear, catch a glimpse of your hair,

As you danced and you twirled, without any care.

You'd smile and you'd laugh, like a bird you'd be free,

I'd try not to cry, you're there without me.

I'd stay my hand from touching your face,

From calling your name, to feel your embrace.

You'd open your mouth and your voice would be pure,

I'd treasure the sound, no more pain you'd endure.

I'd stay 'til the sunset, when I'd have to leave,

A pain in my heart, my spirit in grief.

I'd blow you a kiss, let it drift to the sky,

I'd whisper 'I love you' and bid you goodbye.

I'd pass through the door, I'd descend out of view,

Knowing that one day, some day, I'd again be with you.

- Elsie ~ Tillie Cole

You don't know my pain. You don't know my story. You don't know the hope I've held in my heart for years. Hope that one day I would be different. Hope that one day the person I chose to give my heart to would see me as beautiful, pure, like the snow. And wouldn't look at the darkness and walk in the other direction. ~ Rachel Van Dyken

I had been walking through the Chakara Forest. Fat moths the size of palms wreathed my hair like pearls and moonstones. And then, as I had done since before language burgeoned in the velvet clefts of the mind--I danced.
Not a slow dance, but sharp, punctual movements. My dance organized the shadows of trees, canceled the cloying plumes of wind-fallen fruit, aligned the moonbeams themselves. My back arced gracefully as I moved, neck extended like an oryx, fingers conjuring sharp kathas of rhythm, when a sound crunched not far from me.
I spun around. "Who's there?"
From beneath the heart-shaped leaves of a peepal tree, something rustled. And a voice, so lush it made ambrosia acrid, answered me.
"Only the lowly painter who tries each night, in vain, to capture evening herself."
"What do you want? Show yourself."
The stranger stepped out of the peepal tree. He was broad-shouldered, his features as severely beautiful as a strike of lightning. He wore a crown of blackbuck horns that arced in graceful whorls of onyx, catching the light. But it was his gaze that robbed the clamoring rhythm in my chest.
His stare slipped beneath my skin. And when he saw my eyes widen, he smiled. And in that moment, his smile banished my loneliness and limned the hollows of my anima with starlight, pure and bright. He moved toward me, grasping my hand, and his touch hummed in my bones like an aria. A song to my dance. The beginning of a promise. ~ Roshani Chokshi

This is Clive Christian Number One. It's one of my favorite fragrances, and one of the most exquisite. It's made from entirely pure ingredients, mainly natural aged sandalwood from India and Tahitian vanilla, but a lot of the other ingredients - the ones that produce the fine top notes- they change slightly every year, depending on availability and the perfumers' preference."
Using her skills, she smelled the scarf. "Pineapple, plum, mirabelle, and peach, heart notes of jasmine, ylang ylang, orris, and carnation. I'm betting this is the '08. ~ Jeffrey Stepakoff

I know that my work as a singer is important, it's valuable to me and to others, but I think that in the bigger picture, I'm just trying to keep my heart pure and open. ~ Jai Uttal

It is the mission of each true knight...
His duty... nay, his privilege!
To dream the impossible dream,
To fight the unbeatable foe,
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go;
To right the unrightable wrong.

To love, pure and chaste, from afar,
To try, when your arms are too weary,
To reach the unreachable star!

This is my Quest to follow that star,
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far,
To fight for the right
Without question or pause,
To be willing to march into hell
For a heavenly cause!

And I know, if I'll only be true
To this glorious Quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest.

And the world will be better for this,
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable stars! ~ Joe Darion

Let my heart feel the joy,
see the beauty, all around me.
Still it may be in pure agony. ~ Debasish Mridha

See. I touched the loose peg gently, running my hands over the warm wood of the lute. The varnish was scraped and scuffed in places. It had been treated unkindly in the past, but that didn't make it less lovely underneath. So yes. It had flaws, but what does that matter when it comes to matters of the heart? We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways, unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because.That's as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect. Stanchion made a sweeping gesture ~ Patrick Rothfuss

I was supremely happy, for I had seen. Nothing could ever be the same. I have drunk at the clear and pure waters and my thirst was appeased ... I have seen the Light. I have touched compassion which heals all sorrow and suffering; it is not for myself, but for the world ... Love in all its glory has intoxicated my heart; my heart can never be closed. I have drunk at the fountain of Joy and eternal Beauty. I am God-intoxicated. ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

The hardest thing to do is watch the one you love , loving someone else? Cliché ,oh damn , it is ,but it's also entirely true. There is nothing in this world you can do about except fill your heart with more pain while they hope and pray for the best. You're left fighting an invisible war ,a pure fragment of your imagination that makes you think you can change what you're going through. All the love all the emotion that you feel for them ,it exists in your loved one too but concentrated towards someone.. someone who is not you. And when you finally decide to face the truth ,you let the anger become complete hurt that eats up parts of your personality and that's where I come from ,that's where my most beautiful people are. In the land of pain, where each day and each second change happens. Nobody goes out of there , because every time they do , they're already another person. ~ Arta Mekuli

There is a place for what my heart tells me about you, and there is no shame or guilt in it. God Himself is free to look in my heart right this instant and I know He would not shame or admonish me about what He would see there because the pure, ego-less truth of how I hold you in my heart deserves to be kept alive. ~ Mark Fiore

A Woman's Question

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing
Ever made by the Hand above?
A woman's heart, and a woman's life---
And a woman's wonderful love.

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing
As a child might ask for a toy?
Demanding what others have died to win,
With a reckless dash of boy.

You have written my lesson of duty out,
Manlike, you have questioned me.
Now stand at the bars of my woman's soul
Until I shall question thee.

You require your mutton shall always be hot,
Your socks and your shirt be whole;
I require your heart be true as God's stars
And as pure as His heaven your soul.

You require a cook for your mutton and beef,
I require a far greater thing;
A seamstress you're wanting for socks and shirts---
I look for a man and a king.

A king for the beautiful realm called Home,
And a man that his Maker, God,
Shall look upon as He did on the first
And say: "It is very good."

I am fair and young, but the rose may fade
From this soft young cheek one day;
Will you love me then 'mid the falling leaves,
As you did 'mong the blossoms of May?

Is your heart an ocean so strong and true,
I may launch my all on its tide?
A loving woman finds heaven or hell
On the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are grand and true,
Joshua Harris

That wondrous instant of our meeting -
my mind's eye sees you standing there,
a vision transient and fleeting,
true beauty's spirit, pure and rare.

In toils of hopeless grief confounded,
amid life's noise and stress it seems
for long that tender voice resounded
and those sweet features came in dreams.

Years passed; the storms that life engenders
dispersed my former hopes of grace
and I forgot those accents tender,
the heavenly beauty of your face.

And in my dark incarceration
my days passed like the clouds above,
bereft alike of inspiration,
of tears, of life itself, of love.

My soul awoke to new existence,
again you stood before me there,
a vision lasting but an instant,
true beauty's spirit, pure and rare.

My heart relives the old sensation
and once more steal down from above,
God's benediction, inspiration,
and tears, and life itself and love. ~ Alexander Pushkin

Remember that in ascending to the Father You could not leave us orphans; And in making yourself a prisoner on earth You knew to veil all your divine rays. But the shadow of your veil is luminous and pure. Living Bread of faith, Celestial Food, O mystery of love! My daily Bread, Jesus, is You! ... Jesus, it is you who, despite the blasphemies Of the enemies of the Sacrament of love, It is you who want to show how much you love me, Since you make your dwelling in my heart. O Bread of the exiled! Holy and Divine Host, It is no longer I who live, but I live on your life ~ Therese Of Lisieux

My first emotions had been those of pure melancholy and sincerest pity; but just in proportion as the forlornness of Bartleby grew and grew to my imagination, did that same melancholy merge into fear, that pity into repulsion. So true it is, and so terrible too, that up to a certain point the thought or sight of misery enlists our best affections; but, in certain special cases, beyond that point it does not. They err who would assert that invariably this is owing to the inherent selfishness of the human heart. It rather proceeds from a certain hopelessness of remedying excessive and organic ill. To a sensitive being, pity is not seldom pain. And when at last it is perceived that such pity cannot lead to effectual succor, common sense bids the soul rid of it. What I saw that morning persuaded me that the scrivener was the victim of innate and incurable disorder. I might give alms to his body; but his body did not pain him; it was his soul that suffered, and his soul I could not reach. ~ Herman Melville

When I look at you, I see the opposite of a monster. In my heart, I feel the opposite of fear, the opposite of hate. I feel love, Helene, just pure love burning inside me. ~ Spring Mendez

They say, he whispers, his lips making the word-shapes on her shoulder, there is a river that heals all wounds. It is pure white, like snow or the blossoms of prarie-cotton. You are my white river. If I die, I will come back to wash my heart in you. ~ Margaret Lawrence

I want to be pure in heart
but I like to wear my purple dress. ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Poetry

And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky. ~ Pablo Neruda

Now I am going to reveal to you something which is very pure, a totally white thought. It is always in my heart; it blooms at each of my steps ... The Dance is love, it is only love, it alone, and that is enough ... I, then, it is amorously that I dance: to poems, to music but now I would like to no longer dance to anything but the rhythm of my soul. ~ Isadora Duncan

There are some parts of the world that, once visited, get into your heart and won't go. For me, India is such a place. When I first visited, I was stunned by the richness of the land, by its lush beauty and exotic architecture, by its ability to overload the senses with the pure, concentrated intensity of its colors, smells, tastes, and sounds. It was as if all my life I had been seeing the world in black and white and, when brought face-to-face with India, experienced everything re-rendered in brilliant technicolor. ~ Keith Bellows

Love, deep and pure, it opens my heart. It feels like a magical force, one I'd fight to protect, one I'd die to keep. ~ Sarah Noffke

Darkness surrounded her, suffocated her. She tried to pierce it, but her eyes could find no hint of light. Nothing that would help her escape this prison.
Weight pressed down upon her, heavy enough to crush her bones. And perhaps it had. There was no part of her that didn't hurt so much that she wanted to howl with it. But when she opened her mouth, dirt and dust tried to choke her.
Cold.
Pain.
Silence.
No hope.
Then a voice came to her, burrowing down through the soil and coiling around her.
"When love," a woman began to sing softly, "into my dreams was creeping. I gave my heart into your keeping."
Pure ecstasy.
How she needed that voice, that presence to alleviate the darkness and pain and salvage her sanity.
Tears welled in her eyes as she let the soft song embrace her.
Her breath hitched. ~ Dianne Duvall

What is so sweet as to awake from a troubled dream and behold a beloved face smiling upon you? I love to believe that such shall be our awakening from earth to heaven. My faith never wavers that each dear friend I have "lost" is a new link between this world and the happier land beyond the morn. My soul is for the moment bowed down with grief when I cease to feel the touch of their hands or hear a tender word from them; but the light of faith never fades from the sky, and I take heart again, glad they are free. I cannot understand why anyone should fear death…Suppose there are a million chances against that one that my loved ones who have gone on are alive. What of it? I will take that one chance and risk mistake, rather than let any doubts sadden their souls, and find out afterward. Since there is that one chance of immortality, I will endeavor not to cast a shadow on the joy of the departed…Certainly it is one of our sweetest experiences that when we are touched by some noble affection or pure joy, we remember the dead most tenderly, and feel more powerfully drawn to them. ~ Helen Keller

God blesses all things," she thought, "and he will also bless me. Much wrong have I done, but love pure and disinterested is in my heart, and I shall be repaid. ~ Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

When I was young and had no sense
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
her teeth were ivory;
I said, "For twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me."
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five. ~ George Orwell

Vienna wasn't just a city, it was a tone that either one carries forever in one's soul or one does not. It was the most beautiful thing in my life. I was poor, but I was not alone, because I had a friend. And Vienna was like another friend. When it rained in the tropics, I always heard the voice of Vienna. And at other times too. Sometimes deep in the virgin forests I smelled the musty smell of the entrance hall in Hietzing. Music and everything I loved was in the stones of Vienna, and in people's glances and their behavior, the way pure feelings are part of one's very heart. You know when the feelings stop hurting. Vienna in winter and spring. The allés in Schönbrunn. The blue light in the dormitory at the academy, the great white stairwell with the baroque statue. Morning ridings in the Prater. The mildew in the riding school. I remember all of it exactly, and I wanted to see it again... ~ Sandor Marai

I feel grateful because I have a lot of love in my life. I found the person I'm sharing my life with. I have a good man. ~ Gisele Bundchen

A love poem about the most invisible woman:

The perfect mind, the perfect cover.
I knew her, like… there was no other.
No, I will never, her, forget.
In pure blood - these words are set.
She walks alone now, in my dreams,
where no is never, so it seems.
The night is dark, and near the hour –
to plant a tree, where roses flower.
And then, again, again, once more,
Till hidden is what I adore.
Her heart was pure, and also kind,
And I… should not have acted blind. ~ Will Advise

Y-You love me?"
Gazing down at her pert nose and the freckles that made him think of an adorable pixie, he felt his throat constrict. "I want you every hour of the day. I can't imagine a future without you in it. The idea of returning to my empty house alone is so hellish that I'd rather wander the world at your heels than be without you. Tell me, is that love?"
She cast him a blazing smile. "It sounds like it."
"Then I love you, my wonderful, sword-wielding, tart-tongued angel. I want you to be my wife. I want you to preside over my table and accompany me to balls and share my bed." A most uncharacteristic happiness surged through him. "And I want to have children with you, lots of them, filling every room in Halstead Hall."
A sudden understanding lit her face. His clever love didn't miss the fact that he was offering her not just himself, but everything else he'd neglected, as well. Everything that he wanted to put to rights. That he needed to put to rights.
"Not filling every room, I hope," she teased, even as tears shone in her eyes. "There are three hundred, after all."
"Then I suppose we'll have to get started right away," he said, matching her light tone. His heart near to bursting, he reached again for the buttons on the back of her gown. "These things should never be left until the last minute."
As a laugh of pure joy bubbled out of her, she began to untie his cravat. "I can see you're going to be quite the lusty husband, aren't you ~ Sabrina Jeffries

It still beat with a trip and a hammer, for that is the way a heart must go. But, whereas before it had woven only dark things when it dwelled upon my cousin, now within the fabric of my heart there ran, for him and him alone, one single strand of pure, untarnishable gold. ~ Cameron Dokey

I know my heart, Matthew. I know what I feel won't change." She took a shuddering breath and extended one unsteady hand in his direction. Her voice shook with intensity. "When I tell you I love you, that means I'll love you forever."
What does a man do when his dearest dreams come true?
Matthew stared at her outstretched hand. He'd never imagined this time would come. He wasn't prepared. Her words soaked into his soul, slowly turning the parched desert there into a verdant garden.
"You love me," he said slowly, wonderingly. Then with greater certainty, "By God, you love me." His astonished laugh ended on a choked note as he snatched her hand.
"So much," she said huskily. Her fingers curled hard around his. "So very, very much."
He dragged her back into his arms. "I can't believe it."
"Believe it," she whispered. She raised her hands to frame his face so she could look into his eyes. The blue was so pure that he saw right to her gallant, steadfast soul. "I love you, Matthew. I will always love you."
"And I love you, Grace."
Such simple words to change his life. Yet after tonight, he'd never be the same man again. ~ Anna Campbell

My heart hath often been deeply afflicted under a feeling that the standard of pure righteousness is not lifted up to the people by us, as a society, in that clearness which it might have been, had we been as faithful as we ought to be to the teachings of Christ. ~ John Woolman

I seek a place that can never be destroyed, one that is pure, and that fadeth not away, and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, to be given, at the time appointed, to them that seek it with all their heart. Read it so, if you will, in my book. ~ John Bunyan

Things that remind me of Mother are these:
the truth 'mid deception, a warm summer breeze,
the calm within chaos, a stitch in a rip,
a comforting blanket, the smile on her lip,
an ocean of love in a heart big as whales,
the morals in everyday stories she tells,
a wink amid laughter, the wisdom in books,
the peace in humility, beauty in looks,
the light and the life in a ray of the sun,
the hard work accomplished disguised as pure fun,
concern in a handclasp, encouragement too,
the hope in a clear morning sky azure blue,
the power in prayers uttered soft and sincere,
the faith in a promise, and joy in a tear.
These things all attest to the wonder and grace
of my precious mother, none else could replace. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

The greatest failure in human existence is the failure of Christ-followers to "love one another earnestly from a pure heart"5 and to heed the words of Christ: "By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."6 ~ James MacDonald

The heart's earnest and pure desire is always fulfilled. In my own experience I have often seen this rule verified. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Queen of my tub, I merrily sing,
While the white foam rises high,
And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring,
And fasten the clothes to dry;
Then out in the free fresh air they swing,
Under the sunny sky.

I wish we could wash from our hearts and our souls
The stains of the week away,
And let water and air by their magic make
Ourselves as pure as they;
Then on the earth there would be indeed
A glorious washing-day!

Along the path of a useful life
Will heart's-ease ever bloom;
The busy mind has no time to think
Of sorrow, or care, or gloom;
And anxious thoughts may be swept away
As we busily wield a broom.

I am glad a task to me is given
To labor at day by day;
For it brings me health, and strength, and hope,
And I cheerfully learn to say-
"Head, you may think; Heart, you may feel;
But Hand, you shall work always! ~ Louisa May Alcott

I can make you feel touched." He paused. "It would be easier if I showed you. Do I have permission?"
Yes. "No." Being touched by Mad Rogan wasn't a good idea.
We kept walking. What would it be like?"
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
How would it feel?
Would it feel . . . oh hell.
"Okay." I stopped. We were in front of a small alcove. Nobody was around. If I made an idiot out of myself, nobody would notice. "Just once."
A soft burst of heat touched the back of my neck. I'd never felt anything like it before. It was as if someone had touched me with a heated mink glove, but the touch wasn't soft, it was firm. It felt . . . it felt . . .
The heat slid down my neck, fast, over my spine, setting every single nerve on fire before melting in the small of my back, its echoes pulsing through me. My body sang. He'd strummed me like I was a guitar. I wanted him and I wanted him now.
"That was . . ." I saw his eyes. Words died.
All the hardness had vanished from his eyes. They were alive and heated from within. "You want me."
"What?"
The magic warmth slid over my shoulders, melting into pure pleasure.
"I feel the feedback." He took a step toward me, grinning. "Nevada, you're a liar."
Uh-oh. I backed up. "What feedback?"
"When I do this . . ." The heated pressure zinged from my back up my ribs. I gasped. Oh dear God. ". . . what you feel loops back to me. I'm partially emphatic."
"You didn't mention that." My heart ~ Ilona Andrews

I believed my love would be reciprocated because it was pure. But it wasn't. Reaction to every action? It doesn't work that way with a human heart. Human mind resembles the quantum world. Always uncertain. Beyond any explanation. ~ Abhaidev

Never will she be mine; never. I never brought a flush to her cheek, and it is not I who now have made it so chalk-white. And never will she slip across the street in the night, with anxiety in her heart and a letter to me.
Life has passed me by.
[..] I have got new curtains for my study; pure white. When I awoke this morning, I first thought it had been snowing. In my room the light was exactly as it is after the first fall of snow. I even fancied I caught the scent of snow freshly fallen. And soon it will come, the snow. One feels it in the air.
It will be welcome. Let it come. Let it fall. ~ Hjalmar Soderberg

Let this change you. Let this take hold in the very center of your soul. Write it on the walls of your heart. Let this emanate through every part of you, and trickle into every aspect of your life.
You were not designed to be merely a good person, but that through the experience of mortality you could embrace the divinity you were created with. I do not merely want you to get along with others, but for everyone to be one, and one in me. Not for my glory, but that the glory of godliness will exalt you to a higher plane of existence, beyond anything you've ever imagined.
Throw out weakness and fear; rid yourself of those spoiled garments. Adorn yourself with new garments, spotless and pure. Be reborn. Set your hand to the plow and look not back. Take that first step onto the water; do not fear the wind or the waves, for it is I your Lord and Savior who beckon you. Listen o listen to my voice, which is the voice of the Good Sheppard who calls you; for why should ye parish for naught?'
Parker, the bar has been set, for you and for I, and all the rest of humanity should we chose to accept the invitation," Flavius concluded powerfully. ~ Michael Brent Jones

I destroy because for me everything that proceeds from reason is untrustworthy. I believe only in the evidence of what stirs my marrow, not in the evidence of what addresses itself to my reason. I have found levels in the realm of the nerve. I now feel capable of evaluating the evidence. There is for me an evidence in the realm of pure flesh which has nothing to do with the evidence of reason. The eternal conflict between reason and the heart is decided in my very flesh, but in my flesh irrigated by nerves ... ~ Antonin Artaud

Prayer for Love
Thank You, Creator of the Universe for the gift of Life you have given me,
Thank You for giving me everything that I have ever needed,
Thank You for the opportunity to experience this beautiful body and this wonderful mind,
Thank You for living inside me with all Your Love and Your pure and boundless Spirit,
with Your warm and radiating Light.
Thank You for using my words, for using my eyes, for using my heart to share your love wherever I go.
I love You just the way you are and because I am your creation, I love myself just the way I am.
Help me to keep the Love and the Peace in my Heart and to make that Love a new way of life, that I may live in Love the rest of my life.
Amen. ~ Miguel Ruiz

My heart is pure as the driven slush. ~ Tallulah Bankhead

My own
Walls I built up became my home
I'm strong and I'm sure there's a fire in us
Sweet love, so pure
I catch my breath with just one beating heart
And I embrace myself, please don't tear this apart ~ Christina Aguilera

I have had great enlightenment from the writings of St. John of the Cross. When I was between seventeen and eighteen, they were my only spiritual food. But as I grew older, religious writers left me quite unmoved. I'm still like that. If I glance at a book, no matter how good and moving it is, my heart at once contracts and I read without understanding or, if I understand, I cannot meditate on it. When I'm in this state, the Bible and The Imitation come to my rescue. In them I find hidden manna, a pure and substantial food. But, above all, the Gospels help me in my prayers. They are always showing me new ways of looking at things, and I am always finding hidden and mysterious meanings in them. I understand and, by experience, I know that the Kingdom of God is within us. Jesus has no need of books or doctors of the Church to guide souls. He, the Doctor of doctors, can teach without words. I have never heard Him speak, but I know that He is within me. He guides and inspires me every moment of the day. Just when I need it, a new light shines on my problems. This happens not so much during my hours of prayer as when I'm busy with my daily work. ~ John Beevers

When I have passed that same reality on to another human being, the result most often has been the inner healing of their heart through the touch of my affirmation. To affirm a person is to see the good in them that they cannot see in themselves and to repeat it in spite of appearances to the contrary. Please, this is not some Pollyanna optimism that is blind to the reality of evil, but rather like a fine radar system that is tuned in to the true, the good, and the beautiful. When a person is evoked for who she is, not who she is not, the most often result will be the inner healing of her heart through the touch of affirmation. FINALLY, BRETHREN, WHATEVER IS TRUE, WHATEVER IS HONORABLE, WHATEVER IS RIGHT, WHATEVER IS PURE, WHATEVER IS LOVELY, WHATEVER IS OF GOOD REPUTE, IF THERE IS ANY EXCELLENCE AND IF ANYTHING WORTHY OF PRAISE, DWELL ON THESE THINGS. (PHIL. 4:8 NASB) ~ Brennan Manning

…every now and then when I felt the necessity of a strong inspiration of soul-thought. My heart was dusty, parched for want of the rain of deep feeling; my mind arid and dry, for there is a dust which settles on the heart as well as that which falls on a ledge. It is injurious to the mind as well as the body to be always in one place and always surrounded by the same circumstances. A species of thick clothing slowly grows about my mind … little habits become a part of existence, and by degrees the mind is inclosed in a husk. When this began to form I felt eager to escape from it … to drink deeply once more at the fresh fountains of life. An inspiration -- a long deep breath of pure air of thought -- could alone give health to the heart. There was a hill to which I used to resort at such periods. The labour of walking three miles to it, all the while gradually ascending, seemed to clear my blood of the heaviness accumulated at home … the slow continued rise required continual effort, which carried away the sense of oppression … Moving up the sweet short turf, at every step my heart seemed to obtain a wider horizon of feeling; with every inhalation of rich pure air, a deeper desire … By the time I had reached the summit I had entirely forgotten the petty circumstances and the annoyances of existence. I felt myself, myself'. ~ Richard Jefferies

The Child Angel
Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child,
unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.
They are cruel in their greed and their envy,
their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood.
Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child,
and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the
forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day.
Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the
meaning of all things, let them love you and love each other.
Come and take your seat in the bosom of the limitless, my child.
At sunrise open and raise your heart like a blossoming flower,
and at sunset bend your head and in silence
complete the worship of the day. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I throw my arms out to the side and imagine that I am flying ... my heart beats fast, I can't scream and I can't breathe. I also feel everything, buzzing as if I am charged with electricity. I AM PURE ADRENALINE - TRIS ~ Veronica Roth

119[118] * Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the LORD! 2Blessed are those who keep his testimonies, who seek him with their whole heart, 3who also do no wrong, but walk in his ways! 4You have commanded your precepts to be kept diligently. 5O that my ways may be steadfast in keeping your statutes! 6Then I shall not be put to shame, having my eyes fixed on all your commandments. 7I will praise you with an upright heart, when I learn your righteous ordinances. 8I will observe your statutes; O forsake me not utterly! 9How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to your word. ~ Anonymous

I never have held death in contempt, though in the course of my explorations I have oftentimes felt that to meet one's fate on a noble mountain, or in the heart of a glacier, would be blessed as compared with death from disease, or from some shabby lowland accident. But the best death, quick and crystal-pure, set so glaringly open before us, is hard enough to face, even though we feel gratefully sure that we have already had happiness enough for a dozen lives. ~ John Muir

The wondrous moment of our meeting...
Still I remember you appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In hopeless ennui surrounding
The worldly bustle, to my ear
For long your tender voice kept sounding,
For long in dreams came features dear.

Time passed. Unruly storms confounded
Old dreams, and I from year to year
Forgot how tender you had sounded,
Your heavenly features once so dear.

My backwoods days dragged slow and quiet --
Dull fence around, dark vault above --
Devoid of God and uninspired,
Devoid of tears, of fire, of love.

Sleep from my soul began retreating,
And here you once again appear
Before me like a vision fleeting,
A beauty's angel pure and clear.

In ecstasy my heart is beating,
Old joys for it anew revive;
Inspired and God-filled, it is greeting
The fire, and tears, and love alive. ~ Alexander Pushkin

My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite" -Sirius Black to Kreacher, the Order of the Phoenix ~ J.K. Rowling

Maybe it was just the after glow talking. Maybe it was the glow giving me my River blues..but it felt real. And my feeling, pure or not, were the only thing I had to go on. River had manipulated people. And Murdered people. He was wicked. Not as wicked as Brodie, but.. Still wicked. It was better that he was gone. Better he was out of my life. I knew that, logically. What I felt though, deep, deep down in the darkest of my heart, was that I didn't give a damn if River was Evil. I still liked him. Maybe i even kind of love him. And Maybe that made me Wicked too. ~ April Genevieve Tucholke

My heart beats so hard it hurts, and I can't scream and I can't breathe, but I also feel everything, every vein and every fiber, every bone and every nerve, all awake and buzzing in my body as if charged with electricity. I am pure adrenaline. ~ Veronica Roth

May my mind be clear and my heart pure. ~ Joanie Schirm

I remember my daughter Deni coming along, and she was so pure and caring of everybody and everything. And somehow, this little being managed to get around all the obstacles - the gun turrets, the walls, the moats, the sentries - that were wrapped around my heart. My heart at that time needed her. ~ Woody Harrelson

I know her by her angry air,
Her brightblack eyes, her brightblack hair,
Her rapid laughters wild and shrill,
As laughter of the woodpecker
From the bosom of a hill.
'Tis Kate--she sayeth what she will;
For Kate hath an unbridled tongue,
Clear as the twanging of a harp.
Her heart is like a throbbing star.
Kate hath a spirit ever strung
Like a new bow, and bright and sharp
As edges of the scymetar.
Whence shall she take a fitting mate?
For Kate no common love will feel;
My woman-soldier, gallant Kate,
As pure and true as blades of steel.
Kate saith "the world is void of might".
Kate saith "the men are gilded flies".
Kate snaps her fingers at my vows;
Kate will not hear of lover's sighs.
I would I were an armèd knight,
Far famed for wellwon enterprise,
And wearing on my swarthy brows
The garland of new-wreathed emprise:
For in a moment I would pierce
The blackest files of clanging fight,
And strongly strike to left and right,
In dreaming of my lady's eyes.
Oh! Kate loves well the bold and fierce;
But none are bold enough for Kate,
She cannot find a fitting mate. ~ Alfred Tennyson

This history has for so long lived like a spider in my breast. The spider spins and spins, catching memories in its web, threatening to devour every final happiness. With this letter I hope to sweep away the terror and the sadness and to have my heart made pure again by God's grace. ~ Kathleen Kent

It took some time for his storm to pass, some time for him to stop shuddering in her arms. But after they stood there locked together awhile, his strong arms began to loosen their grip and his shaking to subside.
Encouraged by that, she stretched up to brush soothing kisses over his jaw, his cheek, his lips.
He jerked back, and as he searched her face, the dark shadows in his eyes receded a little. "Oh, God, Jane, why did I let you go?" he asked in an aching voice that resonated to her very soul. "I've been lost ever since."
The words melted the last corner of ice in her heart, and when he lowered his head to hers, she rose to him like a shoot stretching for the sun.
Moaning low in his throat, he devoured her mouth, his kiss pure hot passion, so all-consuming that within moments she had to pull free just to breathe. Then he shifted his kisses to her cheek and ear and jaw, branding everything as his.
"I need you," he said against her throat. "God help me for it, but I do. All these years without you have been hell." Kissing her neck, he fisted his hands in her sleeves. "I want to strip this gown from you. I want to lay you down in that straw over there and have my way with you."
The words made her exult. "Then do it," she murmured against his hair. "Now. Tonight. Have your way with me, and I'll have mine with you. ~ Sabrina Jeffries

I never considered myself part of rock 'n' roll. My stuff was more adult. It was more difficult for teenagers to relate to; my stuff was filled with more despair than anything you'd associate with rock 'n' roll. Since I couldn't see people dancing, I didn't write jitterbugs or twists. I wrote rhythms that moved me. My style requires pure heart singing. ~ Ray Charles

So much beauty in your being, Surely you are an angel sent down to me. Such warm eyes as you regard me, Surely to draw me into your pure heart. Such sweetness in your voice, Surely must be Heaven made. Such a tender embrace, Surely to offer me His strength in your arms. Such soft lips, Surely offering God's love. Such kindness, Surely to remind me be true. Such luck I have at Heaven sitting beside me, Surely to assure me of my Earthly duties as a man. Such amazing beauty, I see in you. Kate." I ~ Jennyfer Browne

Quite pure, quite free of future planning, I mounted
the tangled funeral pyre built for my suffering,
so sure of nothing more to buy for future needs,
while in my heart the stored reserves kept silent. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

He walked me to the door, and we stood on the top step. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kissed me on the nose and said, "I'm glad I came back." God, he was sweet.
"I'm glad you did, too," I replied. "But…" I paused for a moment, gathering courage. "Did you have something you wanted to say?"
It was forward, yes--gutsy. But I wasn't going to let this moment pass. I didn't have many more moments with him, after all; soon I'd be gone to Chicago. Sitting in coffee shops at eleven at night, if I wanted. Working. Eventually going back to school. I'd be danged if I was going to miss what he'd started to say a few minutes earlier, before my mom and her cashmere robe showed up and spoiled everything.
Marlboro Man looked up at me and smiled, apparently pleased that I'd shown such assertiveness. An outgoing middle child all my life, with him I'd become quiet, shy--an unrecognizable version of myself. He'd captured my heart so unexpectedly, so completely, I'd been rendered utterly incapable of speaking. He had this uncanny way of sucking the words right out of me and leaving nothing but pure, unadulterated passion in their place.
He grabbed me even more tightly. "Well, first of all," he began, "I really…I really like you." He looked into my eyes in a seeming effort to transmit the true meaning of each word straight into my psyche. All muscle tone disappeared from my body.
Marlboro Man was so willing to put himself out there, so unafraid to put forth his true ~ Ree Drummond

I woke this morning with tears poured like rain To realize alot in the world is in vein My wish to all is peace love and light To bring all together and negativity take flight. Your heart can be pure and riddled with love You just have to care and watch flight of a dove Talk is cheap and fables are true Follow your heart and never be blue. ~ Peace Gypsy

My lady looks so gentle and so pure When yielding salutation by the way, That the tongue trembles and has nought to say, And the eyes, which fain would see, may not endure. And still, amid the praise she hears secure, She walks with humbleness for her array; Seeming a creature sent from Heaven to stay On earth, and show a miracle made sure. She is so pleasant in the eyes of men That through the sight the inmost heart doth gain A sweetness which needs proof to know it by: And from between her lips there seems to move A soothing essence that is full of love, Saying for ever to the spirit, Sigh! ~ Dante Alighieri

Come back to me, Tessa. Henry said that perhaps, since you had touched the soul of an angel, that you dream of Heaven now, of fields of angels and flowers of fire. Perhaps you are happy in those dreams. But I ask this out of pure selfishness. Come back to me. For I cannot bear to lose all my heart. ~ Cassandra Clare

My secrets cry aloud.
I have no need for tongue.
My heart keeps open house,
My doors are widely swung.
An epic of the eyes
My love, with no disguise.
My truths are all foreknown,
This anguish self-revealed.
I'm naked to the bone,
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear:
I keep the spirit spare.
The anger will endure,
The deed will speak the truth
In language strict and pure.
I stop the lying mouth:
Rage warps my clearest cry
To witless agony. ~ Theodore Roethke

You can have the best intentions in the world, but if you do nothing, you are nothing. It is a harsh glare to shed that kind of light, but in my heart that is pure reality for me. How does the quote go? "Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." This is the downside to the longevity of sloth. It is an exit on a highway that leads to the worst parts of town. ~ Corey Taylor

Since pure awareness of nowness is real Enlightenment,
in openness and contentment I found the Truth in my heart.
By simply relaxing in this uncontrived, open, and natural state,
we obtain the quality of effortless freedom of whatever arises. ~ Jigdral Yeshe Dorje

My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure," said Carrot.
"Really? Well, there's eleven of them. ~ Terry Pratchett

Solitude In the dark night Snowflakes falling slowly In absolute silence Blissful peace The joy of solitude Holding my book Sipping my tea Chocolate on my tongue My heart is filled with contentment Stroking silky fur beside me Looking into dark brown eyes That shine with devotion Pure unconditional love Immersing myself in a foreign world Living a life in hours Laughing, crying, loving In the dark night The joy of solitude ~ Helle Gade

I am the love.
I am the slave of love.
I worship love.
I adore unconditional love.
I am the pure devotee of love.
My heart and eyes are the symbols of love.
Love has the inconceivable innumerable attribute.
Love is the indivisible, infinite, and limitless truth.
Love is the supreme with most dazzling splendor.
Love is eternal, blissful, spiritual, and tender. ~ Debasish Mridha

Life is a present; life is a miracle.
Life is a song divine.
When you touch my heart, hold my soul.
Oh my pure valentine. ~ Debasish Mridha

She had just given Liger his food when a tap sounded on the connecting door. Priss's heart leaped into her throat.
With excitement.
Not dread, or annoyance, or even indifference.
Pure, sizzling stimulation. Suddenly she was wide-awake.
Tamping down her automatic smile, Priss leaned on the door. "Yeah?"
"Open up."
Still fighting that twitching grin, Priss tried to sound disgruntled as she asked, "Why?"
Something hit the door - maybe his head - and Trace said, "I heard you up and moving around, Priss. I have coffee ready, but if you don't want any - "
Being a true caffeine junkie, she jerked open the door. "Oh, bless you, man." She took the cup straight out of Trace's hand, drank deeply and sighed as the warmth penetrated the thick fog of novel sentiment. "Ahhhh. Nirvana. Thank you."
Only after the caffeine ingestion did she notice that Trace wore unsnapped jeans and nothing else. Her eyes flared wide and her jaw felt loose. Holy moly.
"That was my cup," Trace told her, bemused.
But Priss could only stare at him. Despite the delicious coffee she'd just poured in it, her mouth went dry.
When she continued to stare at him, at his chest and abdomen, her gaze tracking a silky line of brown hair that disappeared into his jeans, Trace crossed his arms.
Her gaze jumped to his face and she found him watching her with equal fascination.
A little lost as to the reason for that look, Priss asked with some belligerence, ~ Lori Foster

It's not pretty and perfect I am feeling today. Not in the mood for soft and contained. Not light or well-behaved or sugary sweet. No. I'm not willing to round off my sharp edges or make safe the danger zones. Not for you. Not for anyone, really. There's no room in me for gentle today. It's explore at your own risk, full on howl time. Oh, I can make nice. And I do. You'll only get past the surface if I deem you worthy. But my inner landscape? It's pure wilderness, darling, and the wolves are running. The moon went dark last night, loves, and something crashed and spiraled so something else could rise. It's time for music that courts the shadows and for dancing that sheds skin. Creation is calling and my muse, she likes it rough. Are you with me? Good. Now we can begin... ~ Jeanette LeBlanc

I've heard my teacher say, where there are machines, there are bound to be machine worries; where there are machine worries, there are bound to be machine hearts. With a machine heart in your breast, you've spoiled what was pure and simple; and without the pure and simple, the life of the spirit knows no rest. ~ Zhuangzi

Ah, sweet torture. This was the part I dreaded the most. When our eyes clashed, and everything, every horrible, wonderful, painful, ugly, beautiful, torturous, ruinous, gory bit of us came back to me. It was bad enough when I didn't have to look at him. But when I did - exquisite torment, with a touch of pleasure so concentrated, so brutally pure it had ruined my life. Broken my heart. Eviscerated my soul. I'd scraped what was left of that pathetic soul out myself, sawed it into little pieces and left it somewhere far behind. ~ R.K. Lilley

Time stood still in a swelling moment where my curiosity drew me to be still in thought as the breaking speed of sound caused my heart to ascend to where my ears did know. An almost desperate attempt is made to catch my breath. Conservatively sitting down near behind the door reading, I make note of the incredible lines that veer beyond the vantage of what beauty I can absorb. She is a woman, if whose flaws were to unveil would only make her even more distinctly unique with beauty. Her ivory-colored complexion bears the brilliance of champagne balanced by a hint of ochre. Ringlets of black thread and pearl lay gracefully alongside her charming features. Her lips look as if they speak of love often, but only to herself. Her style, grace, elegance, and posture display the pure determination that she has made clear in her mind. The slight indent on the bridge of her adorable nose complements her slender face and endearing qualities. Her elegance alone surpasses any expression I've ever encountered. ~ Luccini Shurod

And I told you that one night wan't enough.
Loki leaned down, kissing me deeply and pressing me to him. I didn't even attempt to resist. I wrapped my arms around his neck. It wasn't the we had kissed before, not as hungry or fevered. This was something different, nicer.
We were holding onto each other, knowing this might be the last time we could. It felt sweet and hopeful and tragic all at once.
When he stopped kissing me he rested his forehead against mine. He breathed as if struggling to catch his breath. i reached up and touched his face, his skin smooth and cool beneath my hand.
Loki lifted his head so he could look me in the eyes, and I saw something in them, something I'd never seen before. Something pure and unadulterated, and my heart seemed to grow with the warmth of my love for him.
I didn't know how it happened or when it had, but I knew it with complete certainty. I had fallen in love with Loki, more intensely than anything I had felt for anyone before. ~ Amanda Hocking

How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit;
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves;
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.
What is it then to me, if impious war,
Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts to the leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command;
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil and villa ~ William Shakespeare

What am I in the eyes of most people - a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person - somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then - even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart. That is my ambition, based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum. ~ Vincent Van Gogh

Eyes see only dust and earth, but feel with the heart, and know pure joy.
The delights blossom on all sides in every form, but where is your heart's thread to make a wreath of them?
My master's flute sounds through all things, drawing me out of my lodgings wherever they may be, and while I listen I know that every step I take is in my master's house.
For he is the sea, he is the river that leads to the sea, and he is the landing-place. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Pure truth," I said. "You are my bright penny by the roadside. You are worth more than salt or the moon on a long night of walking. You are sweet wine in my mouth, a song in my throat, and laughter in my heart. [ ... ] "You are too good for me," I said, "You are a luxury I cannot afford. Despite this, I insist you come with me today. I will buy you dinner and spend hours waxing rhapsodic
over the vast landscape of wonder that is you." [ ... ] "I will play you music. I will sing you songs. For the rest of the afternoon, the rest of the world cannot touch us. ~ Patrick Rothfuss