White Light Quotes

When earth as if on evil dreams Looks back upon her wars, And the white light of Christ outstreams From the red disc of Mars, His fame, who led the stormy van Of battle, well may cease; But never that which crowns the man Whose victory was peace. ~ John Greenleaf Whittier

Color is not a trivial subject but one that has compelled, for hundreds of years, a passionate curiosity in the greatest artists, philosophers, and natural scientists. The young Spinoza wrote his first treatise on the rainbow; the young Newton's most joyous discovery was the composition of white light; Goethe's great color work, like Newton's, started with a prism; Schopenhauer, Young, Helmholtz, and Maxwell, in the last century, were all tantalized by the problem of color; and Wittgenstein's last work was his Remarks on Colour. And yet most of us, most of the time, overlook its great mystery. ~ Oliver Sacks

My culture had affected my thinking without my consent. How many other things had it shaped without my knowing it? It made me want to examine things - to seek the heart of matters. Of skin color, of Keepers, of Igniters, of White Light, of all my assumptions.

How many of us acted and spoke out and fought for beliefs that we held because our environment told us to? As much as I wanted to blame my England, I knew the blame sat with me. I hadn't trained myself to discern. To examine. To seek the source.

That was about to change. ~ Nadine Brandes

Maybe there is something when it all ends. Maybe there is memory, memory of the person you loved, when you lived. Maybe this is the white-light-tunnel deal, and I'm pressing toward it, and it's pressing back, until we become the same thing. ~ Kate Ellison

The impressionistic method leads into a complete splitting and dissolution of all areas involved in the composition, and color is used to create an overall effect of light. The color is, through such a shading down from the highest light in the deepest shadows, sacrified an degraded to a (black-and-white) function. This leads to the destructions of the color as color. ~ Hans Hofmann

Our house was made of stone, stucco, and clapboard; the newer wings, designed by a big-city architect, had a good deal of glass, and looked out into the Valley, where on good days we could see for many miles while on humid hazy days we could see barely beyond the fence that marked the edge of our property. Father, however, preferred the roof: In his white, light-woolen three-piece suit, white fedora cocked back on his head, for luck, he spent many of his waking hours on the highest peak of the highest roof of the house, observing, through binoculars, the amazing progress of construction in the Valley - for overnight, it seemed, there appeared roads, expressways, sewers, drainage pipes, "planned" communities with such names as Whispering Glades, Murmuring Oaks, Pheasant Run, Deer Willow, all of them walled to keep out intruders, and, yet more astonishing, towerlike buildings of aluminum and glass and steel and brick, buildings whose windows shone and winked like mirrors, splendid in sunshine like pillars of flame; such beauty where once there had been mere earth and sky, it caught at your throat like a great bird's talons, taking your breath away. 'The ways of beauty are as a honeycomb,' Father told us, and none of us could determine, staring at his slow moving lips, whether the truth he spoke was a happy truth or not, whether even it was truth. ("Family") ~ Joyce Carol Oates

Enlightenment simply means that you've run out of questions, and that the answers don't matter anymore. ~ Frederick Lenz

It's the color scheme of that first afternoon - that white panorama full of potential, that threshold white - that Marina understands as whomise. And that's what she's trying to recreate now, a year and a bit later, with a series of expensive light bulbs. 'White light,' the packaging promised. She fits them one by one throughout the house, and unbeknown to her, choreographs the slow dance of light-over-puddle in the passageway. ~ Laia Jufresa

The Symbol of all Art is the Prism. The goal is destructive. To break up the white light of objective realism into the secret glories it contains. ~ E. E. Cummings

A stranger hurrying as fast as he could over the icy sidewalks looked in. He saw a circle of singing people bathed in the clean white light from a tree, and his heart did a somersault, and the image stayed with him; it merged with him even as he came home to his own children, who were already sleeping in their beds, to his wife crossly putting together the tricycle without the screwdriver that he'd run out to borrow. It remained long after his children ripped open their gifts and abandoned their toys in puddles of paper and grew too old for them and left their house and parents and childhoods, so that he and his wife gaped at each other in bewilderment as to how it had happened so terribly swiftly. All those years, the singers in the soft light in the basement apartment crystallized in his mind, became the very idea of what happiness should look like. ~ Lauren Groff

When sunlight, which contains red, yellow, green, and blue light, shines on a mud puddle with oil on it, the areas that strongly reflect each of those colors overlap and produce all kinds of combinations which our eyes see as different colors ... This phenomenon of colors produced by the partial reflection of white light by two surfaces is called iridescence, and can be found in many places ... the more you see how strangely Nature behaves, the harder it is to make a model that explains how even the simplest phenomena actually work. ~ Richard Feynman

He felt as though he were a prism, gathering up God's love like white light and scattering it in all directions, and the sensation was nearly physical, as he caught and repeated as much of what everyone said to him as he could, soaking up the music and cadence, the pattern of phonemes on the fly, gravely accepting and repeating Askama's quiet corrections when he got things wrong. ~ Mary Doria Russell

A simple style is like white light. Although complex, it does not appear to be so. ~ Anatole France

Live and let live, believe and let believe.
'Twas said the lesser gods were only traits
Of the one awful God. Just so the saints
Are God's white light refracted into colors. ~ Robert Frost

He had seen that look in so many eyes lately, not the fear of death but the fear of life. Is it like this? Is it true that it's like this? Oh God, if it's like this what do we do? He had instantly pulled himself together to grapple with her fear.
"It's all right, Prunella," he had said a little wildly. "I tell you it's all right. Life's not this little bit of existence you're plodding through now, it's the whole thing, all that is. It's the breath of God, words that he spoke, a song, a stream of white light that goes back to him again. Life is good ... Life is fine and grand, and we should love it to the depths of our souls. ~ Elizabeth Goudge

As a teen, I heard the second Velvet Underground album, 'White Light/White Heat,' and it was too much for my limited scope of appreciation. It was intense, but I didn't get it. ~ Henry Rollins

It occurs to me as I write that this "white light," usually presented dippily (evidence of afterlife, higher power), is in fact precisely consistent with the oxygen deficit that occurs as blood flow to the brain decreases. "Everything went white," those whose blood pressure has dropped say of the instant before they faint. ~ Joan Didion

There was a bright flash of brilliant white light, like the midday summer sun reflecting off of a freshly cleaned mirror.
And then it was gone. ~ Raymond Rice

And you, Ring-bearer,' she said, turning to Frodo. 'I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. For you I have prepared this.' She held up a small crystal phial: it glittered as she moved it, and rays of white light sprang from her hand. 'In this phial,' she said, 'is caught the light of Eärendil's star, set amid the waters of my fountain. It will shine still brighter when night is about you. May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out. Remember Galadriel and her Mirror!'

Frodo took the phial, and for a moment as it shone between them, he saw her again standing like a queen, great and beautiful. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

As we love truly and deeply, we see the white light of truth in them. Seeing this reminds us that the same light exists within us too - As the Tibetans say: "Recognition is liberation." ~ Frederick Lenz

The beast plopped into the chair, the wood groaning, and, in a flash of white light, turned into a golden-haired man. I ~ Sarah J. Maas

The swallow is come! The swallow is come! O, fair are the seasons, and light Are the days that she brings, With her dusky wings, And her bosom snowy white! ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Whether the are splashed with gold or white, striped with chartreuse or cream, or margined in light tones, they are nature's weaklings, and nature is still a matter of survival of the fittest. The survival of variegated plants depends on human intervention. ~ Allen Lacy

In the white light of eternity, there is only eternity. ~ Frederick Lenz

When the sun shines, there seems to be much more dust in the air.
Dirt can only be seen and properly removed by flooding it with white light ~ Erik Tanghe

According to Thoth, because of the placement of the Great Pyramid on the Earth connecting into the Earth's huge geometrical field - specifically the octahedral field of the Earth, which is equivalent to our own fields - and because of the pyramid's mass and the geometries used in it, the white-light energy field spirals upward and becomes extremely strong, stretching all the way out to the center of the galaxy. The dark-light energy comes in from above, spirals through zero point and connects with the center of the Earth. In this way the Great Pyramid connects the center of the Earth to the center of our galaxy. ~ Drunvalo Melchizedek

The lightning bugs are back. They fly low to the ground as the lawn dissolves from green to black in the dusk. Seeing them, I can reconstruct a childhood: a hot night under tall trees; the Good Humor man, in his square white truck, the freezer smoky when he reaches inside for an ice cream.
The lightning bugs trapped in empty jars with holes on top. "Let them out," our mother said, "or they will die in there." We were careless. We always
forgot to open the jars. The bugs would be there in the morning, their yellow tails dim in the white light of the summer sun, pathetic as they lay on
their backs. We were always horrified by what we had done. As night fell we shook them out and caught more.
I relive the magic of the yellow light without the bright white of hindsight. The little flares in the darkness, a distillation of the kind of life we think we had, we wish we had, we want again. ~ Anna Quindlen

His smile faded into something awed, something ... reverent, and I reached out to cup his face in my hands-
To find my skin glowing.
Faintly, as if some inner light shone beneath my skin, leaking out into the world. Warm and white light, like the sun-like a star. Those wonder-filled eyes met mine, and Rhys ran a finger down my arm. Well, at least now I can gloat that I can literally make my mate glow with happiness. ~ Sarah J. Maas

If it is light, leave it white. ~ Robert Regis Dvorak

I thought about suicide all the time, but it seemed toomuch effort, swallowing all those pills or jumping off things. If I'd lived out in the country I would have found a quiet stretch of railway track, and lain on it, fallen asleep, so that I would never have known when my last moment came. In London, the minimum tube fare had gone up so much that even to get near the line cost a fortune. Suicide seemed an extravagance I couldn't afford. People never leave you alone, either; I knew that if I'd tried to lie down on the line, any number of commuters would have pulled me off again, so that I didn't delay their train.
There must have been murderers out there who wanted to kill, with no way of finding those who wanted to be dead. If there had been some way of contacting them, a date-with-death line, I would have called them to set up a meeting. The current ways of death seemed too haphazard; it was all left up to chance. Had Chance come up, tapped me on the shoulder, said "Oi, you - long black tunnel, white light, off you go," I wouldn't have complained.
It was like having frostbite all over - feeling numb and in pain at the same time. ~ Helena Dela

And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our souls
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
Where all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll. ~ Led Zeppelin

To me, the rainbow was a profoundly hopeful symbol, separating the the white light of appearances into its multiple spectrum and revealing a hidden dimension. It reminded me of my belief that it was the mission of science to pierce through the layers of everyday reality and penetrate to the truth. ~ Candace B. Pert

Above me I feel your love
my Goddess
Full of the promise that through you
my Goddess
All things ripen and come to fruition
my Goddess
As the diaphanous boundary between worlds
my Goddess
Is illuminated by the white light of your sign
my Goddess
I ask that some small ray of your love descend
my Goddess
Fill this seaborne chalice
my Goddess
So that I might pour it over me
my Goddess
And take your gentle touch to the children of the night ~ P.C. Cast

On a distant hilltop, twinkling like an early evening star, a white light was flashing.
Blouse lowered his telescope. 'They're repeating "CQ",' he said. 'And I believe those longer pauses are when they're aiming their tube in different directions. They're looking for their spies. "Seek You", see? Private Igor?'
'Thur?'
'You know how that tube works, don't you?'
'Oh, yeth, thur. You jutht light a flare in the box, and then it'th just point and click.'
'You're not going to answer it, are you, sir?' said Jackrum, horrified.
'I am indeed, sergeant,' said Blouse briskly. 'Private Carborundum, please assemble the tube. Manickle, please bring the lantern. I shall need to read the code book.'
'But that'll give away our position!' said Jackrum.
'No, sergeant, because although this term may be unfamiliar to you I intend to what we call "lie",' said Blouse. 'Igor, I'm sure you have some scissors, although I'd rather you didn't attempt to repeat the word.'
'I have thome of the appliantheth you mention, thur,' said Igorina stiffly. ~ Terry Pratchett

As sure as God made black and white, what's done in the dark will be brought to the light. ~ Johnny Cash

You're never leaving me. Say it. You're never fucking leaving me," Preppy ground out.
I wanted to say the words back, but I was literally being fucked senseless. I began to see stars. Brief flashes of white light as he fucked the words into my heart the same way he was fucking my pussy.
Passionate. Relentless. Rough. Frenzied.
We were all of that and more.
So much more. ~ T.M. Frazier

If you combine all the spectral rays into a single beam, you get white light; and, if you combine all the virtues into a single beam, you get charity. ~ Austin O'Malley

Jimmie would forever be the Renaissance humanist, bearing his faith and optimism like a white light inside a chalice. ~ James Lee Burke

In 2003, at the time I made my "Old Europe" comment, the center of gravity in NATO and Europe had long since shifted to the East. With the former Warsaw Pact countries joining NATO, the alliance has a different mix today. Some people were sensitive about my comment because they thought it was a pejorative way of highlighting demographic realities. Apparently they felt it pointed a white light at a weakness in Europe - an aging population. Europe has come some distance since World War II in becoming Europe. ~ Donald Rumsfeld

I was arguing with the paramedics after they got me into the ambulance, begging for something to eat because I was so damn hungry. Maybe that's why I didn't walk into the stupid white light. Maybe I knew they wouldn't have anything to eat down that way. ~ Diana Rowland

A brilliant white light beat pitilessly down, like the fierce desert sun at midday on the French Foreign Legion; the glittering floor dazzled the eye with the cruel desert glare. We walked slowly through the cereals. ~ Helen DeWitt

Wintermute was a simple cube of white light, that very simplicity suggesting extreme complexity. ~ William Gibson

Sometimes I thought of Him as a cloud in the sky; ... sometimes as simply an enormous white light. Whatever the image, I would imagine Him close to me. And then I would wait, listening to my breath, until the silence came. And I would mutter: I give myself to You. ~ Ayad Akhtar

I am Charles Mingus. Half-black man. Yellow man. Half-yellow. Not even yellow, nor white enough to pass for nothing but black and not too light enough to be called white. ~ Charles Mingus

All the concepts, all knowings, all truths, all religous systems, all beliefs, fall away in the white light of eternity. ~ Frederick Lenz

And there in the middle, high above Prechistensky Boulevard, amidst a scattering of stars on every side but catching the eye through its closeness to the earth, its pure white light and the long uplift of its tail, shone the comet, the huge, brilliant comet of 1812, that popular harbinger of untold horrors and the end of the world. But this bright comet with its long, shiny tail held no fears for Pierre. Quite the reverse: Pierre's eyes glittered with tears of rapture as he gazed up at this radiant star, which must have traced its parabola through infinite space at speeds unimaginable and now suddenly seemed to have picked its spot in the black sky and impaled itself like an arrow piercing the earth, and stuck there, with its strong upthrusting tail and its brilliant display of whiteness amidst the infinity of scintillating stars. This heavenly body seemed perfectly attuned to Pierre's newly melted heart, as it gathered reassurance and blossomed into new life. ~ Leo Tolstoy

The white light of truth, in traversing the many sided transparent soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry. ~ Herbert Spencer

And from the height of this perception all that had previously tormented and preoccupied him suddenly became illumined by a cold white light without shadows, without perspective, without distinction of outline. All life appeared to him like magic-lantern pictures at which he had long been gazing by artificial light through a glass. Now he suddenly saw those badly daubed pictures in clear daylight and without a glass. ~ Leo Tolstoy

Silent white light filled the world. And the righteous and unrighteous alike were consumed in that holy fire. ~ Stephen King

I dreamed about you sometimes.
In my dreams we were walking down Tenth Avenue together in the dark. You hadn't been shot after all, and we were both all right. I asked you if you were done, and you said yes, it was finished.
In my dreams the streetlights all went off as we walked past them, but I could still see perfectly clearly to the corner. There was heat and light pouring out of you like a lantern, shining down the sidewalk in front of us, filling the intersection with amazing white light. When I reached for your hand you let me keep it there and smiled. You kissed me one more time.
In my dreams I always knew that meant that I was about to wake up. The light spilling out of your face and eyes and skin blazed up higher, and you said you had to go.
You said it had to be this way.
You said you were a goddess of fire.

Life went on. It always did, and that summer was no exception. ~ Joe Schreiber

The white light streams down to be broken up by those human prisms into all the colors of the rainbow. Take your own color in the pattern and be just that. ~ Charles R. Brown

Main Street is as dead as ever. There's a blinding white light at the water-tower end of it and Jesus standing in the centre of it in a pale blue robe with his arms out, palms up, like he's saying how the hell would I know? I'm just a carpenter. ~ Miriam Toews

Focus your awareness on the Divine spark of crystal-white light, sparkling within the center of your stomach area. See or feel this white spark of light, shining like a pilot light within you. This is the spark of your true essence, your shining flame from God. Feel the warmth within you, filling you completely with love and peaceful energy. ~ Doreen Virtue

If you want to enjoy the movie, you should know that it is the combination of film and light and white screen, and that the most important thing is to have a plain, white screen. ~ Shunryu Suzuki

Your soul is a pure, white light in a dark world. It will take a thousand worse sins to taint it."
Andrew turned to him. "What sins would those be?"
Rory grinned, slowly, devilishly. "Give me food, first, for strength, and I will show you. ~ Rosemary O'Malley

Faeries began calling foul play, demanding Tamlin be released from the curse, calling her a liar. Through the haze, I saw Rhysand crouching by Tamlin. Not to help him, but to grab the-
"You are all pigs - all scheming, filthy pigs."
Then Rhysand was on his feet, my bloody knife in his hands. He launched himself at Amarantha, swift as a shadow, the ash dagger aimed at her throat.
She lifted a hand - not even bothering to look - and he was blasted back by a wall of white light.
But the pain paused for a second, long enough for me to see him hit the ground and rise again and lunge for her - with hands that now ended in talons. He slammed into the invisible wall Amarantha had raised around herself, and my pain flickered as she turned to him.
"You traitorous piece of filth," she seethed at Rhysand. "You're just as bad as the human beasts." One by one, as if a hand were shoving them in, his talons pushed back into his skin, leaving blood in their wake. He swore, low and vicious. "You were planning this all along. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Get off me!" Badger tried to roll away, but Azrael held his palms over the baker's eyes again and more white light poured out. "You're blinding me! Stop!"

"No," said Azrael.

"Please!"

"I can't hear you over the sound of my total indifference. ~ Mirriam Neal

The Toyota plowed headlong into the boy. But there was no impact. No screams, no blood, no bending metal.
The boy simply dematerialized in a swirl of white light. ~ Laura Oliva

Love is the great intangible ... Frantic and serene, vigilant and calm, wrung-out and fortified, explosive and sedate
love commands a vast army of moods. Hoping for victory, limping from the latest skirmish, lovers enter the arena once again ... Love is the white light of emotion ... Everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one can agree on what it is. ~ Diane Ackerman

A door opens, and hot white light floods the room, blinding him momentarily. He blinks and blinks until the world re-forms. ~ Anonymous

They have been written in the red light of emotion and not in the white light of truth. ~ Virginia Woolf

I will not share you." Still holding his gaze, she drove her body down onto his. Tiny threads of lightning danced over his skin in a shocking web of blue-white light. He gave a choked cry. His spine arched. His buttocks clenched tight. The tendons in his neck stood out like cords of steel. His hips surged again, powerfully, rising up to meet her downward slide. She felt the shock of it to her bones.
"I will not share," she cried out fiercely, one final time as both of them shattered. ~ C.L. Wilson

It is said,' said the Aga Morat, 'that blindness of the eyes is a lighter thing than blindness of the perceptive faculties of the mind. The sun is high: the perception is dazzled. One has made divers chambers available to us in these poor houses for an hour. Let us retire and, by giving ease to the flesh, bring new light also to the proper functions of the mind. There, for the Hakim's servant Mr Blyth, and the lady. In this chamber, Crawford Efendi and I shall have much to discuss.… Sweet to be taken up, you say, as medicine is by the lip. Such a creature I enjoy, thin-skinned, tender and delicate, light of flesh and goodly in make, impulsive in walk and beautiful in the justness of stature. Communing thus, shall not our dreaming souls melt?'

For a moment, Lymond did not reply. Then he said, in the same level voice, 'It is written before God, that after this hour we depart all four, in good health to Djerba?'

The Aga Morat had risen. Looking down, his heavy face creased in a smile. 'It is written,' he said.

Slowly, Lymond rose also. He looked neither at Jerott nor at Marthe, but stepped straight out from under the awning and confronted the Aga. In the blinding white light, the fine lines of his skin were all suddenly visible, and his eyes by contrast quite dark. But his hair, uncut since Marseilles, shone mint-gold in the sun. 'If it is so agreed,' Lymond said, 'I am solicitous for thee, as thou art for me.' And without pausing, he followed th ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Early in March the crocuses crept alight, then blazed yellow and purple in the park. In fact it is about five o'clock in the evening that the first hour of spring strikes - autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day. The air, about to darken, quickens and is run through with mysterious white light; the curtain of darkness is suspended, as though for some unprecedented event. There is perhaps no sunset, the trees are not yet budding - but the senses receive an intimation, an intimation so fine, yet striking in so directly, that this appears a movement in one's own spirit. This exalts whatever feeling is in the heart. ~ Elizabeth Bowen

I can't see you in Adehya. It's like right before my gran died. I saw her passing through this big wall of white light, and then. . .nothing." - Patrick ~ Lowvee Cole

Lefty had seen Desdemona undress many times, but usually as no more than a shadow and never in moonlight. She had never curled onto her back like this, lifting her feet to take off her shoes. He watched and, as she pulled down her skirt and lifted her tunic, was struck by how different his sister looked, in moonlight, in a lifeboat. She glowed. She gave off white light. He blinked behind his hands. The moonlight kept rising; it covered his neck, it reached his eyes until he understood: Desdemona was wearing a corset. That was the other thing she'd brought along: the white cloth enfolding her silkworm eggs was nothing other than Desdemona's wedding corset. She thought she'd never wear it, but here it was. Brassiere cups pointed up at the canvas roof. Whalebone slats squeezed her waist. The corset's skirt dropped garters attached to nothing because my grandmother owned no stockings. In the lifeboat, the corset absorbed all available moonlight, with the odd result that Desdemona's face, head, and arms disappeared. She looked like Winged Victory, tumbled on her back, being carted off to a conqueror's museum. All that was missing was the wings. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

In the evening, the brilliant yellow pumpkin blossoms will close, drunk on sunshine, while the milky white jasmine will open their slender throats and sip the chill Himalayan air.
At night, low hearths will send up wispy curls of smoke fragrant with a dozen dinners, and darkness will clothe the land.
Except on nights when the moon is full. On those nights, the hillside and the valley below are bathed in a magical white light, the glow of the perpetual snows that blanket the mountaintops. On those nights I lie restless in the sleeping loft, wondering what the world is like beyond my mountain home. ~ Patricia McCormick

White Light"

[Verse 1]
You're different
I like it
You're from another planet, huh?
I'd like you to take me there
You can fly your alien spaceship

You're different
Don't hide it
That's what made me notice you

There you were
Sitting by yourself
There you were
Hey, hey, hey

[Hook]
You are a white light
Stepping out of the dark
You are a white light
But you cover it up

Do you wanna fly me miles away
And be alone, alone?
Cuz I don't mind if we never go
Never go home
Stepping out of the dark

[Verse 2]
We're shoulder to shoulder
Leaving for your universe
And I can't control you
(No I don't no I don't)
Yeah, I can't control you

And there you are
So self-contained
There you are there

[Hook]
You are a white light
Stepping out of the dark
You are a white light
But you cover it up

Do you wanna fly me miles away
And be alone, alone?
Cuz I don't mind if we never go
Never go home
Stepping out of the dark

You are a white light
Stepping out of the dark
You are a white light
But you cover it up

Do you wanna fly me miles away
And be alone, alone?
Cuz I don't mind if we never go
Never go home
Stepping out of the dark
Cuz I don't mind if we never go
Don't mind if we never ~ Shura

All questions about the Self, fall away in the white light of eternity, in nirvana, because then we have awakened from the dream. ~ Frederick Lenz

Standing up on her wobbly legs, Blue began to use all of the protective visualizations she'd been taught by her mother. She imagined herself inside an unbreakable glass ball; she could see out, but no on could touch her.
She imagined white light piercing the stormy clouds, the roof, the darkness of Noah, finding Blue, armoring her.
Then she pulled the plug on the battery that was Blue Sargent.
The room went still. The papers settled. The light flickered once more and then strengthened. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Life, dreams, thoughts. Formless and endless. A billion years before our birth. A billion years after it. And in the middle, for a single moment, to see only one person, feeling everything else covered in a white light. ~ Vatsal Surti

The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: Harry seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colors until his surroundings solidified again and he stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone… His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder, wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for -
Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.
"Don't kill me!"
"That was not my intention."
Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, and his face was illuminated from below in the light cast by his wand.
"Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"
"No - no message - I'm here on my own account!"
Snape was wringing his hands. He looked a little mad, with his straggling black hair flying around him.
"I - I come with a warning - no, a request - please - "
Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where he and Snape faced eac ~ J.K. Rowling

There is a love that equals in its power the love of man for woman and reaches inwards as deeply. It is the love of a man or a woman for their world. For the world of their center where their lives burn genuinely and with a free flame.

The love of the diver for his world of wavering light. His world of pearls and tendrils and his breath at his breast. Born as a plunger into the deeps he is at one with every swarm of lime-green fish, with every colored sponge. As he holds himself to the ocean's faery floor, one hand clasped to a bedded whale's rib, he is complete and infinite. Pulse, power and universe sway in his body. He is in love.

The love of the painter standing alone and staring, staring at the great colored surface he is making. Standing with him in the room the rearing canvas stares back with tentative shapes halted in their growth, moving in a new rhythm from floor to ceiling. The twisted tubes, the fresh paint squeezed and smeared across the dry on his palette. The dust beneath the easel. The paint has edged along the brushes' handles. The white light in a northern sky is silent. The window gapes as he inhales his world. His world: a rented room, and turpentine. He moves towards his half-born. He is in Love.

The rich soil crumbles through the yeoman's fingers. As the pearl diver murmurs, 'I am home' as he moves dimly in strange water-lights, and as the painter mutters, 'I am me' on his lone raft of floorboards, so the slow landsman on ~ Mervyn Peake

Ivy passed by the same location a few moments later, slowed for a moment, and glanced down the length of the tube. It was possible to see straight down its length, across the spherical Pod, and through its windows to the Earth. Normally this meant the blue light of the oceans and the white light of clouds and ice caps. Sometimes, a lot of green when they were passing over well-watered parts of the world, or some yellow when over the Sahara. Right now the light was orange because the Earth was on fire. People ~ Neal Stephenson

You know what I found today...that our feelings are just like DISPERSION OF THE WHITE LIGHT INTO IT'S CONSTITUENT COLOURS . It is up to you be the VIBGYOR and feel transparent or else...choose any one of them and stick to it. ~ KARVILEENA DEKA

I see that White Light will only return to the planet when every human being recognizes every other human being as an individualized frequency of the White Light. As long as we keep eliminating or devaluing other human beings we have decided we don't like, ie., destroying frequencies of the spectrum, we will not be able to experience the White Light. Our job is to protect and nurture each human frequency so that the White Light can return. ~ Bruce H. Lipton

My feet, bare, lightly graced your face. My soul ascended to the sky, magnificent, as that of two thousand thrushes. Grounded I am by your white light. My dear Mother Earth, forgive me for intruding." - Susan Marie ~ Susan Marie

Here's in extreme example: the possibility of life after death. When considered rationally, there is no justification for believing that anything happens to anyone upon the moment of his or her death. There is no reasonable counter to the prospect of nothingness. Any anecdotal story about "floating toward a white light" or Shirley MacClain's past life on Atlantis or the details in Heaven Is for Real or automatically (and justifiably) dismissed by any secular intellectual. Yet this wholly logical position discounts the overwhelming likelihood that we currently don't know something critical about the experience of life, much less the ultimate conclusion to the experience. There are so many things we don't know about energy, or the way energy is transferred, or why energy (which can't be created or destroyed) exists at all. We can't truly conceive the conditions of a multidimensional reality, even though we're (probably) already living inside one. We have a limited understanding of consciousness. We have a limited understanding of time, and of the perception of time, and of the possibility that all time is happening at once. So while it seems unrealistic to seriously consider the prospect of life after death, it seems equally naïve to assume that our contemporary understanding of this phenomenon is remotely complete. We have no idea what we don't know, or what we'll eventually learn, or what might be true despite our perpetual inability to comprehend what that truth is.
Chuck Klosterman