Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Angelically. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Angelically Quotes And Sayings by 99 Authors including Knut Hamsun,Elizabeth I,Johannes Tauler,Ann Voskamp,Bruno Heller for you to enjoy and share.
There is nothing like being left alone again, to walk peacefully with oneself in the woods. To boil one's coffee and fill one's pipe, and to think idly and slowly as one does it.
I plucke up the goodlie greene herbes of sentences by pruning, eat them by reading, chawe them by musing, and laie them up at length in the hie seate of memorie by gathering them together; that I, having tasted the sweetenes, l may the lesse perceave the bitternes of this miserable life.
Your meditations may be as profound, as exalted, as devout as you like; you may practise every pious exercise you can manage, but all this is as nothing in comparison with the Blessed Sacrament. What we do may be godly, but this sacrament is God Himself!
The answer to deep anxiety is the deep adoration of God.
It's like an angel crying on your tongue.
Happiness is a rare plant that seldom takes root on earth-few ever enjoyed it, except for a brief period; the search after it is rarely rewarded by the discovery, but there is an admirable substitute for it ... a contented spirit.
the sweet drone of honeysuckle thickening the
Isabelle. Simon's mouth moved to form the shape of her name, pressing it into his pillow. He'd told himself he wasn't going to think about her, not until he was really getting somewhere in the Acedemy. Not until he was on his way to being better, being the person she wanted him to be.
Anna took her solace where she always did. The smell of the earth, the touch of the sky held for her a special alchemy, able to turn loneliness into aloneness, and so make it, if not sacred, at least bearable.
Annie said her prayers, read her Bible, and tried not to forget God. Ah! could she only have known that God never forgot her, whether she forgot him or not, giving her sleep in her dreary garret, gladness even in Murdoch Malison's school-room, and the light of life everywhere!
Relief loosens tongues beyond measure.
communion with God in the middle of bags of flour
Lord, make me now
As happy as the field.
With flowers enriched ...
By the tits of Holy Agnes
We cannot know what John of Leyden felt Under the Bishop 's tongs - we can only Walk in temperate London, our educated city, Wishing to cry as freely as they did who died In the Age of Faith. We have our loneliness And our regret with which to build an eschatology.
Passionately obsessed by anything we love
an avalanche of magic flattens the way ahead, levels, rules, reasons, dissents, bears us with it over chasms, fears, doubts. Without the power of that love ...
Our prayers, offered in utter weakness, are represented before God Himself with the tangible scent and form of incense filling real, physical bowls. How we radically undervalue our prayers.
Speaking of, I've been playing with the letters - Lovers In a Very Enlightened Regard."
"LIVER. Good one."
"Also, how about Life Invasion Via Exceptional Respect?"
"Life Invasion. Like it."
"Or Lovelike Intensity Via Emotional Rapport."
"Doesn't that spell OLIVER?
She relaxed, fitting perfectly into my body. In the crisp, cold February air, we swayed together, moving to our own personal beat. For one moment, we escaped hell. No teachers, no therapist, no well-meaning friends, no nightmares-just the two of us, dancing.
Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger
Self-approbation, when founded in truth and a good conscience, is a source of some of the purest joys known to man.
In sweet water there is a pleasure ungrudged by anyone.
Like the lark that soars in the air, first singing, then silent, content with the last sweetness that satiates it, such seemed to me that image, the imprint of the Eternal Pleasure.
The satisfaction of a special Pninian craving.
Tonglen practice begins to dissolve the illusion that each of us is alone with this personal suffering that no one else can understand.
Cinnamon bites and kisses simultaneously.
Pleasure is very seldom found where it is sought. Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks. The flowers which scatter their odours from time to time in the paths of life, grow up without culture from seeds scattered by chance.
Inner life is Divine.
She looked at her roses. They were white, some incurved and holy, others expanded in an ecstacy. The tree was dark as a shadow. She lifted her hand impulsively to the flowers; she went forward and touched them in worship.
I utter this word with deepest affection and from the very bottom of my heart.
There is no scent in it so wholesome as that of the pines, nor any fragrance so penetrating and restorative as the life-everlasting in high pastures.
Never have I greater reason for suspicion that when I am particularly pleased with myself, my faith, my progress, and my alms.
There was a faint, sharp sweetness about her, like the taste of raspberries. She wore fussy and frilly clothes and jingling bracelets with an air of surprised distaste, as if she had been put to sleep by a witch and had awoken to find herself in these trappings.
Happiness is a sacred bliss.
This was what happiness felt like - this wondrous, miraculous alternative to dread.
She felt like she'd looked through a window and knew what happiness looked like. It was pure and unadulterated and just on the other side of a distant ridge through a murky window. And still she was closer to happiness than she'd ever been.
She tried to act as though it were nothing to go to the library alone. But her happiness betrayed her. Her smile could not be restrained, and it spread from her tightly pressed mouth, to her round cheeks, almost to the hair ribbons tied in perky bows over her ears.
with the abiding in Him. It is with the desire
To be effortlessly yourself is a blessing, an ambrosia. It is like a few tiny little puffs of opium which lift you ever so slightly off the hard surface of the world.
And now if you'll excuse me, I should like to finish my book, alone, without the presence of a single ringleted girl to disrupt me. If you should come for me at dinner and find me in my chair, gone to the angels at last, you shall know that I died alone, which is to say in a state of utter bliss.
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.
The Life of true holiness is rooted in the soil of awed adoration
Laughter is carbonated holiness.
Anytime the perfume of orange and lemon groves wafts in the window; the human body has to feel suffused with a languorous well-being.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.
I had to try and find a way to express happiness without sounding corny.
Thee onnlly wway ttoo ccope withh ssometthingg ddeadly sseriouss iss ttoo ttry ttoo trreatt itt a llittlle lligghtly.
The fragrance of meditation is enlightenment.
I feel naturally florid when I look up again. I look like a flourish. I look the way the word galore feels. I feel uncultivated beautiful, like pure, organic allure.
I feel nothing but the accursed happiness I have dreaded all my life long: the happiness that comes as life goes, the happiness of yielding and dreaming instead of resisting and doing, the sweetness of the fruit that is going rotten.
The feeling she has is most unexpected. The oddest thing. She feels no distress or worry. Instead, she senses a dim, faint feeling that rises from some unknown place in her heart, rising slowly and blossoming into something that she might call relief.
If we breathe the scent of goodly grass, the fragrance of spices, the aroma of good fruits, we pronounce a blessing over the pleasure.
Isn't it wonderful that our bodies can give us so much pleasure? he said to her once, quite simply. They were happy and radiantly innocent. They were both incapable of the conception that joy is sin.
breathed into this quite ordinary prose a kind of life, continuous and full of feeling. My
Happiness is speechless.
Dost thee?" said Bildad, in a hollow tone, and turning round to me. "I dost," said I unconsciously, he was so intense a Quaker.
Come quickly with me.
Inhale the divine that swoops
from nostril to blunted throat
then sneaks past guarded doors
into the hallway of your heart
where the lamplight grows.
When one has a famishing thirst for happiness, one is apt to gulp down diversions wherever they are offered.
Encouragement is a divine awaken of the soul.
Often, we melt into our ecstasies as though they were jams, as though we were sinking into syrupy bowls of gooseberries, of raspberries, of bilberries.
ardent persistence in devotion,
I take my metal canister of tea off the shelf. It is my own mixture of dried lavender blossoms and lemon balm, harvested from my garden and hung in the storeroom to dry. Weed helped me hang these stalks, I think. His hands touched these tender leaves, just as they touch me.
Wonder - the sensation of being whisked out of time and space ... to be bathed in ... epiphanous delight.
_I_ boil it." Joseph entered last, closing the door behind them. "Last time, you burnt it."
Connor glared at Joseph. "We were attacked! What would you have me tell the Abenaki? 'I cannae fight just now. I'm makin' candy. Would you like a wee taste?
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No, it was the poetry. A spark flew off Arnold and shook me, like a chill. I wanted to cry; I felt very odd. I had fallen into a new way of being happy.
Can every anguish calmly bear.
As pills that are outwardly fair, gilt, and rolled in sugar, but within are full of bitterness, even so lustful pleasure is no sooner hatched but remorse is at hand, ready to supplant her.
Don't give way to heedlessness or to intimacy with sensual delight - for a heedful person, absorbed in jhana, attains an abundance of ease.
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
If we opened our minds to enjoyment, we might find tranquil pleasures spread about us on every side. We might live with the angels that visit us on every sunbeam, and sit with the fairies who wait on every flower.
With a strong strong glow of courage, drank off the potion.
[...] Wasn't it lonely? Your life, I mean."
"Yes."
"You're alone?"
"Yes."
"You live alone?"
"I am entirely alone, Marian," I repeated quietly.
Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
His smile banished my loneliness and limbed the hollows of my anema with starlight, pure and bright...his touch hummed in my bones like an aria -- a song to my dance, a beginning of a promise.
To be exempt from the Passions with which others are tormented, is the only pleasing Solitude.
Happiness is a way of praying.
You erased my famine, unpicked my anger
Your energy charges my voice, it radiates my heart;
Now I am alive with the ore of words pouring
From my lips like molten lava glittering with joy.
An aroma more heavenly than a flight of angels trickled on the breeze. "Coffee!" He breathed the word like a prayer.
A still tongue makes a happy life.
Nothing short of God can satisfy your soul.
Anahita mewed contentment as she snuggled even closer to Imamiah. She was enjoying her interactions with Imamiah very much. She could not understand why angels remained as spirit when this flesh was so much more pleasurable.
Hopeless. Freak. Elephant. Pitiful
Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings.
I can shake off everything as I write; my sorrows disappear, my courage is reborn.
One morsel of God's provision, especially when it comes in unexpectedly, and upon prayer, when wants are most, will be more sweet
Elisa thought how empty the prayers sounded. The words rattled around in the ancient rafters and then returned to them like dead leaves falling from the trees. No life. No shade of hope. Only a cold wind that blew into their very souls.
The ordinary can be like medicine.
The truly sublime is always easy, and always natural.
The generous abundance of her passion, without guile or trickery, was like a white flame which penetrated and found response in depths of his own sensuous nature that had never yet been reached.
I took in the thick night air, the sweet smell of honeysuckle, the chirping of frogs, to impress the moment in the folds of my memory, preserve it like a flower between pages of a book. To remember: This is how it feels to be happy.
The high was over. Kat jerked back, two thoughts pounding her mind, screaming, I kissed Hale. But i was the second thought made her panic: Hale didn't kiss me back. Sorry. I ...
There is no other possibility for possessing certitude with regard to one's life apart from self-abandonmen t, in a continuous crescendo, into the hands of a love that seems to grow constantly because it has its origin in God.
I feel an earnest and humble desire, and shall do till I die, to increase the stock of harmless cheerfulness.
Happy are they who can please and delight their senses with things insensate - and who can live off their death.
In anguish and desperation, I reached out as I had many times before to the presence I call the Beloved. This unconditionally loving and wakeful awareness had always been a refuge for me.
The soft wool blend of his sweater felt itchy compared to his skin.
Even though we'd been together all night, I couldn't get over the
feel of him, his taste, that potent, delicious smell of his neck. I was
higher than a fan at a Bob Marley concert.
Prayer is innocence's friend; and willingly flieth incessant 'twist the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven.
How sweet, how passing sweet, is solitude!
A burn, like the first taste of whiskey, then pure, unabashed ecstasy
Katherine was sitting alone at a table, but she didn't look lonely. In fact, there was a small, defiant smile on her lips. As if she wanted to be alone. As if the fact people avoided her was a badge.