Poetry Touches The Heart Quotes

And yet, it is amazing that poetry often touches the heart even though it may not try to teach us anything. ~ Debasish Mridha

When you're looking that far out, you're giving people their place in the universe, it touches people. Science is often visual, so it doesn't need translation. It's like poetry, it touches you. ~ Story Musgrave

The First Flowers
Beside the brook
Toward the willows,
During these days
So many yellow flowers have opened
Their eyes into gold.
I have long since lost my innocence, yet a memory
Touches my depth, the golden hours of morning, and gazes
Brilliantly upon me out of the eyes of flowers.
I was going to pick flowers;
Now I leave them all standing
And walk home, an old man. ~ Hermann Hesse

Some hit songs are really stupid, and who knows why they're hits. But a lot of hit songs are really good. I agree with Jim [Lauderdale] in that I think the really good ones are songs that when you hear it [sic] ... there's just something about it that touches your heart, and you don't know why. ~ Jorma Kaukonen

Does it get any better than sleeping next to you on a cold rainy night? Watching myself in your eyes and the way I shine in there. Hearing the drizzle and getting weaker every time the breeze touches our bare skin. Every time you smile, these little butterflies with their wings on fire, flies inside my heart and I constantly fail to cage these feelings in mere words. All I need at that moment is you inside my arms. And to stay a prisoner inside your eyes, for an eternity. ~ Akshay Vasu

The passionate heart touches the sky. The meditative mind enters it. ~ Yasmine Sherif (The Case For Humanity: An Extraordinary Session)

When authors write from personal experiences,straight from the heart,it touches the readers. Their work speaks out to all who read it,and most of the time,people can relate to what was written. I have always believed that books can change people's lives. Especially ones where the author is sincere,and writes deep,thoughtful,touching things from their hearts.-Nina Jean Slack ~ Nina Jean Slack

After some hesitation, she stepped out of the elevator and paused, not sure which way to go. She found the right door and knocked, softly. There was no answer. Here's my chance, I can bail now, she thought. But then she remembered his hot touches and the way he made her knees weak. And the orgasm. She knocked louder, with more insistence. As the door swung open, her heart leapt into her throat. There he was. ~ Sylvia Kane

What I'm after, above all, is a sense of divine inspiration
that touches the very core of my being.

That lives throughout every aspect of my existence,

so all I do and all I see is beauty in the simplicity,
and mystery in the unknown.

To let nothing drag me into the monotony of living,

but to always move to the unique rhythm of each passing day.
To give nothing but all of me- my soul, my heart, my fire. ~ Sarah Loven

The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart. ~ Tennessee Williams

Every time love touches my heart, I am changed. And each time the identity I had thought to be mine and to be my last, dissolves like raindrops into the ground, ready to nourish the new I have found. ~ Atalina Wright

He has explained why it is that ambiguity touches his heart more nearly than the death and marriage style of finish that i prefer. ~ Diane Setterfield

When the melody touches your heart emotionally and the words hit your brain intellectually, more than likely you'll find you'll have an excellent song to sing. ~ Yip Harburg

A baby's laughter is the sweetest music that touches every heart. ~ Debasish Mridha

The Creator of the galaxies lives, whispers uniquely good things about us in our hearts, and urges us to rise up and use our freedom to become compassionate peacemakers in our world. This bond of love that touches each one of our lives from the very beginning of our creation to the very end of time and beyond is our original blessing. When you and I are home in this relationship, we find ourselves in the heart of the One that Jesus addresses as Father. We reside in the intimacy of the womb of Love Itself. Looking out from the heart of Love, our own hearts bleed with compassion, because from there we are seeing as God sees. From this intimate connection with God we grow to become like the One we love. You and I, along with all members of the human family, are blessed people with the blessing of unconditional love that will never be taken away. We are also people who offer compassion to those who suffer. ~ Henri J.M. Nouwen

Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching us as we go through the movements again. When he stops in front of me, my insides twist like someone is stirring them with a fork. He stares at me, his eyes following my body from my head to my feet, not lingering anywhere - a practical, scientific gaze.
"You don't have much muscle", he says, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."
Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. His fingers are so long that, though the heel of his hand touches one side of my rib cage, his fingertips still touch the other side. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed.
"Never forget to keep tension here", he says in a quiet voice.
Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone. It's strange, but I have to stop and breathe for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again. ~ Veronica Roth

Even though we've only spent a handful of nights together, it somehow feels like I've always known him. He touches me with the surety of a man who knows exactly how I like to be touched. My heart swells every time our gazes lock together to the point where I feel as if I will burst. ~ J.B. Salsbury

A baby is a smiling, dancing moon in our hands just waiting to touch our hearts. ~ Debasish Mridha

But in the city
in which I love you,
no one comes, no one
meets me in the brick clefts;
in the wedged dark,
no finger touches me secretly, no mouth
tastes my flawless salt,
no one wakens the honey in the cells, finds the humming
in the ribs, the rich business in the recesses;
hulls clogged, I continue laden ~ Li-Young Lee

Sorrow, the heart must bear,
Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there.
Many a circumstance, at least,
Touches the very breast.
For those
Whom any sent away,
he knows:
And in the live man's stead,
Armor and ashes reach
The house of each. ~ Robert Browning

Music is just a word for something we love largely because it consists of things that words can't express. Likewise, the heart is just a word for something in us that music sometimes touches. ~ David James Duncan

I had to tell it because it was the only honorable way to fulfill the promise that I had made on the Red Lake Reservation almost twenty years earlier. This, then - The Wolf at Twilight - is the fruit of that promise. It is the part of Dan's life I had left untold. It takes us to places that for too long have been hidden in shadow and reveals truths about what has been taken from Native people and what the rest of us have lost in that taking. But it also reveals what we may all yet become if we heed Sitting Bull's poignant entreaty and put our minds together to see what kind of lives we can create for the children. I hope you find it worthy of your time. If it opens your eyes to another way of understanding, I am grateful. If it simply entertains you, I am pleased. But what matters most is that it touches you. For it is, above all, a story of Native America, and its goal is to lodge deep in your heart. ~ Kent Nerburn

The moment you are born your death is foretold by your newly minted cells as your mother holds you up, then hands you to your father, who gently tickles the stomach where the cancer will one day form, studies the eyes where melanoma's dark signature is already written along the optic nerve, touches the back where the liver will one day house the cirrhosis, feels the bloodstream that will sweeten itself into diabetes, admires the shape of the head where the brain will fall to the ax-handle of stroke, or listens to your heart, which, exhausted by the fearful ways and humiliations and indecencies of life, will explode in your chest like a light going out in the world. ~ Pat Conroy

There's an openness to his face, an innocence - a certain kind of niceness. It's the niceness that touches my heart the most. ~ Jenny Han

Wiersbe suggests that a distinction can be made between regret, remorse and repentance. Regret is that activity of the mind (intellect) that causes us to say, "Why did I do that?" Remorse touches us a little deeper causing us to feel disgust and pain (involving both the intellect and the heart), but not causing us to change our ways. True repentance brings in the third aspect of our minds – our will. To truly repent one must have a change of will. "Godly sorrow" is the catalyst that brings us to true repentance. [Warren Wiersbe, Be Reverent, p. 149.]
By Carey Dillinger
From Expository Files 11.6; June 2004 ~ Warren W. Wiersbe

The boy bled for you - a whole body's worth of blood. There's no love greater than that. He belongs to you alone." His words are surprisingly beautiful and kind, and somewhere in my heart, I know he's right. But how long will I have to wait for Jeb to have the courage to admit it to himself? Morpheus touches the scars on my palm. "But let us not forget that you bled for me. So to whom do you belong, Alyssa? ~ A.G. Howard

He calls me his Queen of the Night. He shows me the wonders in this incredible city. He encourages me to find my own way, and to choose what I think is right or wrong.
And the sex, God, the sex! I never knew what sex was until him! It's not soft music and candlelight, a choice, a deliberate action.
It's as involuntary as breathing, and as impossible not to do. It's slammed up against a wall in a dark alley, or flat on my back on cold concrete because I can't stand one more second without him. It's on my hands and knees, dry-mouthed, heart-in-my-throat, waiting for the moment he touches me, and I'm alive again. It's punishing and purifying, velvet and violent, and it makes everything else melt away, until nothing matters but getting him inside me and I wouldn't just die for him - I'd kill for him, too.
Like I did tonight. ~ Karen Marie Moning

A special spark rises
from the sorrow of a burning heart.
Have you ever heard
how the sigh of a broken heart
touches the Beloved? ~ Rumi

As Christians, we are all engaged in the business of discerning and obeying God's call, and this usually means that soon enough we find ourselves out beyond our own competence, frightened at what God demands and feeling cosmically abandoned, left in the lurch with a job for which our own resources are completely inadequate…Sooner or later, the panic touches each one of us who accepts God's call and heads, eyes wide open, straight into some difficult and mysterious work - like pastoring a church, teaching a class, going back to school, learning a language, creating a work of art. The panic descends on everyone who accepts God's call to do something that engages our heart and wracks our soul - like making a marriage proper through better and worse, raising a child and letting her go into adulthood, enduring a terrible illness, growing up, growing old. In fact, being called out far beyond our own competence is part of our regular experience with God. ~ Ellen F. Davis

I spin in the trail to face Kat, who raises her own walking stick to meet mine.
'A duel to the death?' Kat says, giggling.
I laugh, too, and we spar for a moment playfully until Kat gently presses the tip of her stick into my chest. 'On your knees and beg for mercy.'
Oh, god. This feels silly and dangerous at the same time. I kneel. I look up at Kat, beautiful and fierce standing there with the setting sun in her hair and her face so stern. Only her eyes are full of mirth. I stare.
'Close your eyes, prisoner.'
I giggle stupidly, my heart leaping at the point of her stick.
'Close your eyes. And stop laughing.'
I try to obey, shaking a little.
Katy moves her makeshift lance to my neck, pressing gently. 'Close em.'
I close my eyes, serious at last. There is a long silence, and I feel genuinely vulnerable for a moment, as though Kat really does have a sword to my neck. Then I feel the stick come down gently and touch each of my shoulders.
'I… dub… thee… mine,' says Kat softly. 'Sealed with a kiss.' The stick falls to the forest floor behind her. She kneels down in front of me and touches my face with both hands. It's all I can do to stay here, to be here, to hold still. ~ Elissa Janine Hoole

Love is the only thing that touches our heart. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

I like prostitution. My heart has never failed to pound at the sight of one of those provocatively dressed women walking in the rain under the gaslamps, just as the sight of monks in their robes and girdles touches some ascetic, hidden corner of my soul. ~ Gustave Flaubert

Bliss is doing that which fulfills you. Action that touches you deeply and fully. Bliss is active. Bliss is...following your dreams, desires, or heart. Bliss is that deep, fulfilling, sustainable, driving need you have. That thing that is the true "you."Your bliss is your life's purpose. Your bliss gives your otherwise meaningless life meaning. When you are following your bliss you are powerful and empowered. You are focused and the universe is waiting to help you. ~ Angie Karan

In the shores of twilight,
Wide and deep as your eyes,
I swim.
In a way, I feel her

Night, a crowned goddess commanding the stars to swim,
So peaceful, even death escapes into serenity.
Stars so far, they seem as they tell the living world,
lights, live into shinning, die into nothingness.
Worlds I want to travel, away to shadows of your eyes in the hold of your lips.
So far, so far away....
As your kiss, as my lover.

Night,
With a soft touch,
Touches my face, winds to the trees, sunlight on grass, life, breath, so quite, death screams in the abyss, a black pearl with grains of sand.

The dance of the night..reminds me of her.
Her tender laughter, the gleam in her
enormous eyes, her soft whirlpool lips.
As a reflection from dark streams,
She reveals hot love,
Nothing hidden, no shame,
just love that hurts.
The solace in the night makes me cry...
The lights of stars as arrows to me.

Night,
Hits my eyes,
Beauty of the wilderness,
Calling me,
Homeless in a city, naked on cold steel
At home with the sea,
with night above,
foam of waters breaks below.
As my companion,
friend I speak to.
I say to the night sky.
Does she love me?
When travels of the heart goes outside of me, outside the seas into clouds of your warmth,
To another place in her heart tryin ~ Albert Alexander Bukoski

Mankind's moral sense is not a strong beacon light, radiating outward to illuminate in sharp outline all that it touches. It is, rather, a small candle flame, casting vague and multiple shadows, flickering and sputtering in the strong winds of power and passion, greed and ideology. But brought close to the heart and cupped in one's hands, it dispels the darkness and warms the soul. ~ James Q. Wilson

A secret love is beautiful, sweet and sacred when it's just a light infatuation; but when that person reaches over and touches you in the heart, making it alive in a way it has never known, that secret love becomes frightening, because you can never make them love you, you would never want to make them love you ... but all the same, no matter which way you view it, they don't love you ... and your heart doesn't know how to beat the same. ~ Stefanie Schneider

Admire the art of the archer: he never touches the body and breaks the heart. ~ Anonymous

Artists are very sensitive and heart-driven, and are usually prone to speaking freely about anything that touches them. The first way to identify a corrupt society is to study public figures in the entertainment sector. If many lack real talent, or have talent but rarely speak out openly about policies that affect them besides the environment, then that country has rigid gatekeepers. ~ Suzy Kassem

I'm high from him, from the looks, the stolen touches, the secret lust, watching him at rally after rally, speaking firmly and from the heart to crowds calling out his name. ~ Katy Evans

The Poetry of Love

We see the world with the eyes of a small child.
We visualize the beauty of the world with an unique magic sense,and unfold our deeper feelings and expectations diffusing the seizing negative forces that stretch out their threatening tentacles.
We give blow and shape in our dreams.
We seek for Love through unfamiliar new people and new experiences. Love is a vivid spirit, a big breath that touches upon each piece of our existence, our each cell…
Love affiliates a lot of forms, exists and fits everywhere.
Each flight of a small bird, the flutter of an incredible beauty butterfly, the stones wetted by waters of Aquamarine River, the branches of the trees that dally with the blow of wind, all these is the Spirit of Love.
When you love in a genuine way, love everything.
You are not bothered by the babble of Nature and the strange reactions of people.
You hear the sounds of everyday routine with bigger consequence. Overtakes the meanness consequently and with courage.
You seek truth in small things.
You live the each moment as if it's unique.

Love for nature.
Love for life.
Love for people. ~ Katerina Kostaki

…Your hands bring a breath
of inviolable distances
as elusive as ideas.

And the ambiguous sway
of the moon, of the gentlest,
if you rest your eyes on me,
touches the spirit.

You're the woman who passes by
like a leaf.
And bequeaths an autumn flame to the trees. ~ Giuseppe Ungaretti

A hat is an expression of a woman's soul. It is something that she wears on her head, but it belongs to her heart. It is the keynote of her personality, the finishing touch that makes her look beautiful, smart, and sure of herself. ~ Lilly Dache

Jenna is acting strange. Weeping, moping, even remarks tending toward belittlement Melmoth might tolerate (although he cannot think why; she is not his wife and even in human females PMS is a plague of the past) but when he caught her lying about Raquel - udderly wonderful, indeed - he knew the problem was serious.

After sex, Melmoth powers her down. He retrieves her capsule from underground storage, a little abashed to be riding up with the oblong vessel in a lobby elevator where anyone might see. Locked vertical for easy transport, the capsule on its castors and titanium carriage stands higher than Melmoth is tall. He cannot help feeling that its translucent pink upper half and tapered conical roundness make it look like an erect penis. Arriving at penthouse level, he wheels it into his apartment. Once inside his private quarters, he positions it beside the hoverbed and enters a six-character alphanumeric open-sesame to spring the lid. On an interior panel, Melmoth touches a sensor for AutoRenew. Gold wands deploy from opposite ends and set up a zero-gravity field that levitates Jenna from the topsheet. As if by magic - to Melmoth it is magic - the inert form of his personal android companion floats four feet laterally and gentles to rest in a polymer cradle contoured to her default figure.

Jenna is only a SmartBot. She does not breathe, blood does not run in her arteries and veins. She has no arteries or veins, nor a heart, nor anything in the way of ~ John Lauricella

I want so many things," he whispers. "I want your mind. Your strength. I want to be worth your time." His fingers graze the hem of my top and he says "I want this up." He tugs on the waist of my pants and says "I want these down." He touches the tips of his fingers to the sides of my body and says, "I want to feel your skin on fire. I want to feel your heart racing next to mine and I want to know it's racing because of me, because you want me. Because you never," he says, he breathes, "never want me to stop. I want every second. Every inch of you. I want all of it. ~ Tahereh Mafi

Being in grief, it turns out, is not unlike being in love.
In both states, the imagination's entirely occupied with one person. The beloved dwells at the heart of the world, and becomes a Rome: the roads of feeling all lead to him, all proceed from him. Everything that touches us seems to relate back to that center: there is no other emotional life, no place outside the universe of feeling centered on its pivotal figure. ~ Mark Doty

When a man's hand touches the hand of a woman, they both touch the heart of eternity. ~ Khalil Gibran

Someone who touches your heart, all be it a mere fleeting moment, means no less than those who stay a lifetime. The longing is no less, and your life will never be the same after their gentle caress burns a swathe through your soul as there it will remain until the end of time... ~ Virginia Alison

Wherever our heart touches the One, in the small or the big, it finds the touch of the infinite. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

Life is a wave in the ocean of time. It touches the heart of the universe like a beautiful rhyme. We are riding the wave as spirits rhyme. ~ Debasish Mridha

It's diabolical." "It doesn't look all that bad to me." " 'Diabolical' means 'satanic,' sis." "Why's your maze so satanic, then?" "The Dusk follows you as you go through it. If it touches you, you cease to exist, so one wrong turn down a dead end, that's the end of you. That's why you have to learn the labyrinth by heart. ~ David Mitchell