Stories From The Heart Quotes

I'm not interested in whether you've sat with the great; I'm interested in whether you've sat with the broken. ~ Unknown

I am not interested in whether you've stood with the great. I am interested in whether you've sat broken. ~ Unknown

Being a writer, I take thing seriously (not too seriously). I may be a young writer/self publisher, I do love to write and I want to share my stories to the world. but more importantly, I do take writing seriously. ~ Simi Sunny

Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone is a writer, some are written in the books and some are confined to hearts. ~ Savi Sharma

Stories trace their roots to impassioned human interactions with the world. I always sense a storyline as an emotional yearning embedded in a deep fissure waiting to erupt. ~ Kilroy J. Oldster

Open your arms to embrace what you see, and never lose sight of what you have ~ Robert Funston

With her for guide, you shall never go astray; while invoking her, you shall never lose heart; so long as she is in your mind, you are safe from deception; while she holds your hand, you cannot fall; under her protection you have nothing to fear; if she walks before you, you shall not grow weary; if she shows you favor, you shall reach the goal. ~ Bernard Of Clairvaux

Flipping through the 'Toronto Star' one day in 2008, I noticed a piece about a phenomenal boxer from the Philippines who had won several different titles in several different weight divisions. Manny Pacquiao's rise from heart-crushing poverty to the top ranks of his sport was astounding. ~ Dan Hill

The indications are that swearing preceded the development of cursing. That is, expletives, maledictions, exclamations, and imprecations of the immediately explosive or vituperative kind preceded the speechmaking and later rituals involved in the deliberate apportioning of the fate of an enemy. Swearing of the former variety is from the lips only, but the latter is from the heart. Damn it! is not that same as Damn you! ~ Ashley Montagu

Committed to lead from the heart I appreciate a free spirit and do not follow idealistic rulebook. ~ Nidhi Khanna

But don't you think stories should be used to tell the truth?"
"No, I think we need stories to protect us from the truth. ~ Etaf Rum

Valek coalesced from the shadows and wrapped me in his long lean arms. I soaked in his musky smell, listening to his heart beat. Strong and steady. No indication that he had been sneaking around. ~ Maria V. Snyder

A fundamental rule of journalism, which is to tell a story and stick to it. The narratives of journalism (significantly called "stories"), like those of mythology and folklore, derive their power from their firm, undeviating sympathies and antipathies. Cinderella must remain good and the stepsisters bad. "Second stepsister not so bad after all" is not a good story. ~ Janet Malcolm

The Pacific, greatest of oceans, has an area exceeding that of all dry land on the planet. Herman Melville called it "the tide-beating heart of earth." Covering more than a third of the planet's surface
as much as the Atlantic, Indian, and Arctic oceans combined
it's the largest geographical feature in the world. Its awesome 165,384,000 square km (up to 16,000 km wide and 11,000 km long) have an average depth of around 4,000 meters. Half the world's liquid water is stored here. You could drop the entire dry landmass of our planet into the Pacific and still have room for another continent the size of Asia. One theory claims the moon may have been flung from the Pacific while the world was still young. ~ David Stanley

To be like Christ. To displace self from the inner throne, and to enthrone Him; to make not the slightest compromise with the smallest sin. We aim at nothing less than to walk with God all day long, to abide every hour in Christ and He and His words in us, to love God with all the heart and our neighbor as ourselves...It is possible to cast every care on Him daily, and to be at peace amidst pressure, to see the will of God in everything, to put away ALL bitterness and clamor and evil speaking, daily and hourly. It is possibly by unreserved resort to divine power under divine conditions to become strongest through and through at our weakest point. ~ Handley Moule

I speak to the paper, as I speak to the first person I meet. ~ Michel De Montaigne

This book contains material from the remises of my memory and of my heart. Even if the one has been tampered with and the other does not exist. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

America can still point to individual rags-to-riches stories of self-made men and women who leapfrog to success. But for all the glitz of sudden stardom on American Idol, for all the hoop stars and gridiron heroes from the inner city, and for every surprise Wall Street billionaire, the unpleasant truth is that a typical child born at the bottom of the heap in America has far less chance of rising into the middle class or above than one born in France, Germany, or Scandinavia. In fact, one study found that it would take five or six generations, 125 to 150 years, for a child from America's poverty caste to rise to the middle of the middle class. ~ Hedrick Smith

For two weeks, I lay awake at night and said Hail Marys over and over to stop my heart from beating too fast. I suddenly realized how much being a husband was about fear: fear of not being able to keep somebody safe, of not being able to protect somebody from all the bad stuff you want to protect them from. Knowing they have more tears in them than you will be able to keep them from crying. I realized that Renee had seen me fail, and that she was the person I was going to be failing in front for the rest of my life. It was just a little failure, but it promised bigger failures to come. Additional ones, anyway. But that's who your wife is, the person you fail in front of. Love it so confusing; there's no peace of mind. ~ Rob Sheffield

Her name was Pilar Ternera. She had been part of the exodus that ended with the founding of Macondo, dragged along by her family in order to separate her from the man who had raped her at fourteen and had continued to love her until she was twenty-two, but who never made up his mind to make the situation public because he was a man
apart. He promised to follow her to the ends of the earth, but only later on, when he put his affairs in order, and she had become tired of waiting for him, always identifying him with the tall and short, blond and brunet men that her cards promised from land and sea within three days, three months, or three years. With her waiting she had lost the strength
of her thighs, the firmness of her breasts, her habit of tenderness, but she kept the madness of her heart intact. Maddened by that prodigious plaything, José Arcadio followed her path every night through the labyrinth of the room. On a certain occasion he found the door barred, and he knocked several times, knowing that if he had the boldness
to knock the first time he would have had to knock until the last, and after an interminable wait she opened the door for him. During the day, lying down to dream, he would secretly enjoy the memories of the night before. But when she came into the house, merry, indifferent, chatty, he did not have to make any effort to hide his tension, because that woman, whose explosive laugh frightened off the doves, had nothing to do with the invisible ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

That is what I thought of you, Ellie. Heartless, reckless, selfish, and cruel."
He was back to shooting me when my armor was down. I turned my face away from him, not wanting to let him see the hurt in my eyes. He reached up and put his fingers under my chin, bringing my face forward again, forcing me to look at him.
"Beautiful, sad, wounded, and lost," he continued. "A freak, a work of art, a liar, and a lover."
His gaze was starting to eat away at my insides. Razor-blade butterflies whirled in my heart.
"I hate you, Ellie Watt," he whispered, lips coming closer to mine, "because I still love you after all these years. ~ Karina Halle

That is exactly what we need. Eyes to see. Isn't that what Jesus offered us - clarity? Recovery of sight for the blind (Luke 4:18)? We need clarity and we need it badly. A simple prayer rises from my heart: Jesus, take away the fog and the clouds and the veil, and help me to see ... give me eyes to really see. ~ John Eldredge

Heart's-ease is a flower which blooms from the grave of desire. ~ William Rounseville Alger

In my opinion miracles will never confound a realist. It is not miracles that bring a realist to faith. A true realist, if he is not a believer, will always find in himself the strength and ability not to believe in miracles as well, and if a miracle stands before him as an irrefutable fact, he will sooner doubt his own senses than admit the fact. And even if he does admit it, he will admit it as a fact of nature that was previously unknown to him. In the realist, faith is not born from miracles, but miracles from faith. Once the realist comes to believe, then, precisely because of his realism, he must also allow for miracles. The Apostle Thomas declared that he would not believe until he saw, and when he saw, he said: "My Lord and My God!" Was it the miracle that made him believe? Most likely not, but he believed first and foremost because he wished to believe, and maybe already fully believed in his secret heart even as he was saying: "I will not believe until I see. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Recklessness is beauty
Ashbery says. When a car
door opens in the dark
at ninety miles an hour
what rushes in is beauty.
The wind's hymns are
inaudible, the words
chased off by scarecrows
from the blurry fields.
The murmuring heart
beatless all those moments
waiting to see if you
will live. ~ Keith Althaus

The Layers

I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
"Live in the layers,
not on the litter."
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes. ~ Stanley Kunitz

Purifying the heart is a process. First, one must understand the necessity of having courtesy with God and the importance of fulfilling its requirements, as noted above. Second, one must be aware of the diseases of the heart - aware of their existence, their ailments, and the deleterious complications and troubles that ensue from them, and recognize that these diseases prevent one from attaining this courtesy. ~ Hamza Yusuf

The SWAT team leader didn't like us cutting up the body. He and Ramirez went into a yelling match.
While everyone was watching the argument, I nodded to Olaf and he beheaded the corpse in one blow. Blood gushed out onto the cave floor.
"What the fuck are you doing?" one of the SWAT cops asked, bringing his gun pointed at us.
"My job," I said. I put the tip of the blade under the ribs.
The policeman brought the gun up to his shoulder. "Get away from the body until the captain tells you it's okay to do it."
I kept the knife against the body. "Olaf."
"Yes."
"If he shoots me, kill him."
"My pleasure." The big man turned his eyes to the policeman, and there was something in that gaze that made the heavily armed man take a step back.
I plunged the blade into the skin, and it slid home. I cut a hole just below his ribs and reached into the hole. It was tight and wet and slick, and it took two hands to get the heart out, one to cut it free of the connecting tissue, and one to hold onto it. I drew it from the chest, blood stained to my elbows.
I caught Ramirez and Bernardo both looking at me, with nearly identical looks on their faces. I didn't think either of them would be wanting a date any time soon. They'd always remember watching me cut a man's heart out, and that memory would stain anything else. With Bernardo, I didn't give a shit. With Ramirez, it hurt to see that look in his eyes.
A hand touched the heart. I stared at tha ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

20Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, 21equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us [1] that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. ~ Anonymous

Then a soft voice whispers right against my ear.
"They're already going AWOL on you, lass? You're fucked."
I turn to face the bold, tough Wessconian . . . and he's so close, I can feel the heat from his hard body, see the small sprigs of stubble on that perfect, gorgeous jaw. My brain stutters, but I find the resolve to tease him.
"Dear God, Logan, are you smiling? Careful - you might pull a muscle in your face."
And then Logan does something that melts my insides and turns my knees to quivery goo.
He laughs.
And it's beautiful.
It's a crime he doesn't do it more often. Or maybe a blessing. Because Logan St. James is a sexy, stunning man on any given day. But when he laughs?
He's heart-stopping. ~ Emma Chase

I shut the car door as quietly as possible and quickly maneuvered to the front porch, climbing the steps two at a time, and rushing to the door. I knocked. Loudly. Several times. And then I waited.

My heart was lodged in my throat so I tried to swallow past it. I couldn't show weakness. I needed to be tough.

I can be tough. I nodded, shifting from one foot to the other. I can be real tough. You can't be a sissy and make fifty loaves of bread in a day. That's a lot of kneading. I'm tough as nails. I'm basically the Rocky Balboa of bakers. I'm unstoppable! Aint nobody gunna -

The door swung open. I jumped back a half step. My voice failed me. ~ Penny Reid

When you pour out words from your heart to your lover, make sure they aren't on a paper vessel and lost to the wind. ~ Dixie Waters

Dear God, your Word has made what you require of us so perfectly clear: you desire a clean heart and loving obedience. Purify my heart by removing all iniquity from my life by the power of your Holy Spirit. I desire to be wholly transformed by your indwelling presence. I want to be with you every moment, and ask that you would give me the happy satisfaction of being used by you. Amen. ~ Andrew Murray

A lot of (Kyle's) stories when he was back home in Texas, a lot of his own personal opinions about what he was doing in Iraq, how he viewed Iraqis. Some of what people have described as his racist tendencies towards Iraqis and Muslims when he was going on some of these, you know, killing sprees in Iraq on assignment. So I think there are issues ... When he was involved in his - on assignments in terms of what he was doing. A lot of the description that has come out from his book and some of the terminology that he has used, people have described as racist. ~ Ayman Mohyeldin

'Going home' is a journey to the heart of who we are, a place where we can be ourselves and welcome the reality of our beauty and our pain. From this acceptance of ourselves, we can accept others as they are and we can see our common humanity. ~ Jean Vanier

Look, then, into thine heart, and write!
Yes, into Life's deep stream!
All forms of sorrow and delight,
All solemn Voices of the Night,
That can soothe thee, or affright, -
Be these henceforth thy theme.
(excerpt from "Voices of the Night") ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There were stories coming out of Thailand that slave labor was being used to catch and process the seafood we eat. They were nearly all from Miramar. Because of reports of widespread labor abuses, several countries are now considering a ban on imports of Thai seafood. ~ Lourdes Garcia-Navarro

The Little Friend is a long book. It's also completely different from my first novel: different landscape, different characters, different use of language and diction, different approach to story. ~ Donna Tartt

The nearer Christ comes to a heart, the more it becomes conscious of its guilt; it will then either ask for his mercy and find peace, or else it will turn against Him because it is not yet ready to give up its sinfulness. Thus He will separate the good from the bad, the wheat from the chaff. Man's reaction to this Divine Presence will be the test: either it will call out all the opposition of egotistic natures, or else galvanize them into a regeneration and a resurrection. ~ Fulton J. Sheen

I hear Your voice inside me, calling me home. Who will believe in me?

Those who know My voice.

I am not channeling. The word of God is upon my heart.

You have all you need. Stop looking to another. My Word is written within you. Ask and you shall receive. No Voice speaks clearer. Surrender to Me. Do not think what is next. It shall be shown for what it is. Listen to Me. Lest you forget, true wisdom comes only from Source.

Don't be afraid to be alone with yourself. I am here. Listen to Me as I speak clearly your name. Must you always seek to drown Me out? I am here. Hear Me now. I give you rest. Rest in Me, not in what you think. You are more than that. Oh, so much more you are. Listen to Me, listen up My dear. Hear Me clear. My words ring true like a bell. Yes, clear as a bell I speak unto you. Give Me room. Move over. Get out of your way, I say. I speak peace and love unto your heart. ~ Debra Clemente

It was Dostoevsky, once again, who drew from the French Revolution and its seeming hatred of the Church the lesson that "revolution must necessarily begin with atheism." That is absolutely true. But the world had never before known a godlessness as organized, militarized, and tenaciously malevolent as that practiced by Marxism. Within the philosophical system of Marx and Lenin, and at the heart of their psychology, hatred of God is the principal driving force, more fundamental than all their political and economic pretensions. Militant atheism is not merely incidental or marginal to Communist policy; it is not a side effect, but the central pivot. ~ Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

The longer you live a comfortable lie, the farther you drift from your purpose, and the harder will be to gather the courage to go back to your heart. ~ Dragos Bratasanu

Informed optimism is different from a willful ignorance that simply wishes not to see the bad in the world. Seeing the truth and choosing every day to see it, letting life break your heart but doing something about it took courage. It was not about hiding your head in the sand but rather digging in, accepting the challenges, and doing the hard work it takes not just to complain about a problem but to be the solution. ~ Jewel

MY FATHER
If I have to write a poem about my father
it has to be about integrity
and kindness -
the selfless kind of kindness
that is so very rare
I am sure there will be many people
living somewhere who must be as kind as him
but what I mean to say is
I have not met one yet

and when it comes to helping others
he always helps too much
and as the saying goes -
help someone, you earn a friend.
help someone too much,
you make an enemy. -
so you know the gist of what
I'm trying to say here

anyways I was talking about the
poem about my father
it has to be about
passion
and hard work
because you see
you cannot separate these
things from him
they are part of him as his two eyes and
two hands and his heart and his soul
and his whole being
and you cannot separate
wind and waves
or living and the universe
or earth and heavens
and although he never got any
award from bureaucracy
the students he taught ages ago
still touch his feet and some
of them are the people
you have to make
an appointment to meet even if
it is for two minutes of their time
and that's a reward for him
bigger than any other that
some of his colleagues got
for their flattery

and also I have to write about
reliability as well
because you see < ~ Neena H Brar

When he heard light, rushing footfalls, he turned his head. Someone was racing along the second-floor balcony. Then laughter drifted down from above. Glorious feminine laughter.

He leaned out the archway and glanced at the grand staircase.
Bella appeared on the landing above, breathless, smiling, a black satin robe gathered in her hands. As she slowed at the head of the stairs, she looked over her shoulder, her thick dark hair swinging like a mane.

The pounding that came next was heavy and distant, growing louder until it was like boulders hitting the ground. Obviously, it was what she was waiting for. She let out a laugh, yanked her robe up even higher, and started down the stairs, bare feet skirting the steps as if she were floating. At the bottom, she hit the mosaic floor of the foyer and wheeled around just as Zsadist appeared in second-story hallway.
The Brother spotted her and went straight for the balcony, pegging his hands into the rail, swinging his legs up and pushing himself straight off into thin air. He flew outward, body in a perfect swan dive--except he wasn't over water, he was two floors up over hard stone.

John's cry for help came out as a mute, sustained rush of air--

Which was cut off as Zsadist dematerialized at the height of the dive. He took form twenty feet in front of Bella, who watched the show with glowing happiness.

Meanwhile, John's heart pounded from shock...then pumped fast for a ~ J.R. Ward

During the few months Troy had been back home, he'd told his friends about us, and so we quickly eased into the conversation as though we'd all known each other for many years. They embarrassed us with great thanks for having served overseas. They recounted combat events Troy had told them, and we realized by the context of their stories that Troy had made us heroes for his friends because we'd been heroes to him. At this point I was the saddest I'd yet been over Troy's passing, because the true friend from war is the friend who obliterates his own story by telling the stories of others. ~ Anthony Swofford

The seeker should have faith in himself and in his master. He should have faith that God is ever by his side and that no evil can touch him. As faith springs up in the heart it dries out lust, ill-will, mental sloth, spiritual pride and doubt, and the heart freed from these hindrances becomes serene and untroubled. ~ B.K.S. Iyengar

Travelling the dusty highways in the early evenings, just as the light began to fade, I would look out along the perpendicular dirt tracks that joined the road at intervals. They undulated away gently into the distance; slow streams of people in twos and threes and fours walked them, through the haze, talking easily, making their way back from wherever lay beyond. I longed to take every one of these turnings, to step out along every track in the morning, to return at dusk, to see what lay over each of these horizons and to share in the stories of those that returned from them. My trajectory, and that of each one of us, was that of a meteor, shedding millions of tiny sparks of possibility with every passing second, each with the capacity to ignite a flash of experience, but nearly all of which quickly burned up and vanished as it was left behind. The fire that moved forward was the flame of our lives. ~ Luke F.D. Marsden

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it." - Rabindranath Tagore ~ Jonathan Paul Isaacs

If this is what our marriage is… if this is all it will ever be… just me and you… will that be enough? Am I enough for you, Quinn?" I'm confounded. Speechless. I stare at him in utter disbelief, unable to answer him. Not because I can't. I know the answer to his question. I've always known the answer. But I stay silent because I'm not sure I should answer him. The silence that lingers between his question and my answer creates the biggest misunderstanding our marriage has ever seen. Graham's jaw hardens. His eyes harden. Everything-even his heart-hardens. He looks away from me because my silence means something different to him than what it means to me. ~ Colleen Hoover

I've written short stories from male perspectives before, and I've never had a problem with it as long as I've understood the character's emotions and motivations. ~ Sara Shepard

whoever sees you with the eyes of the heart
goes ecstatic
but the blind person stays lost in thought
hundreds of branches from the secret worlds are
dropping roses at your feet
why do you cut down the tree of contentment? ~ Rumi

He worked at stealing her heart to replace the one she'd taken from him. ~ Christine Feehan

It's okay. Don't feel bad. Stop beating yourself up. Nothing lasts forever. People come and people go. We cross paths, sometimes even travel together for a bit- to learn from each other. Stop trying to hold onto what is no longer meant to be. Yes, sometimes we need to stay even when it doesn't feel good because we still have something to learn, something to do there. But our souls will die if they stay in places they don't belong. You know the difference. Listen to your heart. If you stay when you've been told to go, you'll stop growing! Go! Give yourself permission to outgrow people and places.
It's okay. ~ Brooke Hampton