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Quiet Quotes

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Quiet Quotes

“It is enough to have been created, to have embodied for a moment the infinite and tumultuously creative spirit. It is infinitely more than enough to have been used, to have been the rough sketch for some perfected creation. Looking into the future, I saw without sorrow, rather with quiet interest, my own decline and fall.”

Has BeensEnoughMomentsUsedSpiritFallInterestMy OwnCreativeSawsCreationSorrowQuietInfiniteRoughDeclineLooking To The FutureCreative Spirit
Book:Last and First Men, & Star Maker: Two Science-fiction Novels
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“As the Christian's sorrows multiply, his patience grows, until, with sweet, unruffled quiet, he can confront the ills of life, and, though inwardly wincing, can calmly pursue his way to the restful grave, while his old, harsh voice is softly cadenced into sweetest melody, like the faint notes of an angel's whispered song. As patience deepens, charity and sympathy increase.”

WayChristianSongGrowsVoiceSweetSorrowQuietAngelIncreaseNotesCharityGravesPursueMelodyHarshSweetestRestful
Author:George Horace Lorimer
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“Our respect for the dead, when they are just dead, is something wonderful, and the way we show it more wonderful still. We show it with black feathers and black horses; we show it with black dresses and black heraldries; we show it with costly obelisks and sculptures of sorrow, which spoil half of our beautiful cathedrals. We show it with frightful gratings and vaults, and lids of dismal stone, in the midst of the quiet grass; and last, and not least, we show it by permitting ourselves to tell any number of falsehoods we think amiable or credible in the epitaph.”

ThinkingWayStillsShowsLastsBeautifulDeathBlackNumbersHalfWonderfulSorrowQuietStonesHorseDressesGrassMidstFalsehoodSculptureFeathersSpoilCathedralsCredibleEpitaphAmiableVaults
Book:Works
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“Nature best teaches how to pray, and how to reverence all the gifts the Almighty has given us. She is like a vast outspread handkerchief, embroidered with God's eternal name, on which we may dry alike our tears of sorrow and of joy; she turns weeping into ecstasy, and fills our hearts with speechless, quiet reverence and resignation.”

HeartMayJoyTurnsNamesGivenTeachTearsPrayingSorrowQuietEternalDryEcstasyReverenceAlmightyWeepingResignationSpeechlessHandkerchiefsTears Of Sorrow
Book:The Letters of Robert Schumann
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“I..." He struggled to answer. "When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the livingroom was open just a crack... I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds." He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months. There was no anger or reproach. It was Papa who spoke. How did it look?" Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. "There were stars," he said. "They burned by eyes.”

WorldLooksSaidTwoEyeStarsAnswersMonthsSorrowQuietTwentiesSpokesCracksSecondsBurnedCurtainsMaxOutside WorldReproachTwo MonthsAstonishmentCorridorsPapaTwenty TwoNo Anger
Author:Markus Zusak
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“Past one o’clock. You must have gone to bed. The Milky Way streams silver through the night. I’m in no hurry; with lightning telegrams I have no cause to wake or trouble you. And, as they say, the incident is closed. Love’s boat has smashed against the daily grind. Now you and I are quits. Why bother then To balance mutual sorrows, pains, and hurts. Behold what quiet settles on the world. Night wraps the sky in tribute from the stars. In hours like these, one rises to address The ages, history, and all creation.”

WorldWayAgePainPastNightStarsCausesHoursHurtGoneTroubleSkyCreationBalanceSorrowBedQuietQuittingBoatClockBotherSettlingStreamsAddressesSilverMutualLightningWrapsIncidentsGrindTributeMilky WayWhy BotherTelegramsDaily Grind
Book:Klop, Stikhi, Poėmy
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“Come little children I'll take thee away, into a land of Enchantment Come little children the time's come to play here in my garden of Shadows Follow sweet children I'll show thee the way through all the pain and the Sorrows Weep not poor childlen for life is this way murdering beauty and Passions Hush now dear children it must be this way to weary of life and Deceptions Rest now my children for soon we'll away into the calm and the Quiet Come little children I'll take thee away, into a land of Enchantment Come little children the time's come to play here in my garden of Shadows”

WayChildrenLittlesPlayShowsPainLife IsPassionPoorLandSweetSorrowQuietShadowGardenCalmDearTheeDeceptionMy ChildrenWearyEnchantmentHushSweet Child
Author:Edgar Allan Poe
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