"growth"タグの名言

Sometimes the person who benefited most when you forgive someone was yourself.

What she felt for Jena hadn’t been love. She knew that now, but it had been something that had felt bewilderingly, beautifully, deceptively like it. And though it had ended in horror and betrayal, she had learned something from Jena, too. Loving someone didn’t mean you could save them, and you didn’t save yourself simply by the act of loving.

What wills to grow, will grow. What wills to flow, will flow.

We assign roles to all the people in our life in an attempt to master it. The roles can be reasonable or preposterous. Either way, when we realise that others do not agree to the terms of the role we have assigned to them, we get upset. Is it their fault? Surely, they are simply following their own dreams. What matters is that we love the dreamer of the dream. It matters that we love people. We mustn’t invent roles for others because we think it will make us happy. Who are we to invent such things? Can the tiny piece of seaweed tell the vast ocean what it must do? What wills to grow, will grow. What wills to flow, will flow.

Relationships always bring about the dissolution of our delusions.

There are many forms of love as there is moments in time, and you are capable of feeling them all at different stages of your life.

My turn shall also come: I sense the spreading of a wing.

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough to make every moment holy. I am too tiny in this world, and not tiny enough just to lie before you like a thing, shrewd and secretive. I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will, as it goes toward action; and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times, when something is coming near, I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone. I want to be a mirror for your whole body, and I never want to be blind, or to be too old to hold up your heavy and swaying picture. I want to unfold. I don’t want to stay folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie. and I want my grasp of things to be true before you. I want to describe myself like a painting that I looked at closely for a long time, like a saying that I finally understood, like the pitcher I use every day, like the face of my mother, like a ship that carried me through the wildest storm of all.

Her Kind I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind. I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind. I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.

By daily dying, I have come to be.

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion, that it may sing; And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

I will come back to you, I swear I will; And you will know me still. I shall be only a little taller Than when I went.

What Youth deemed crystal, Age finds out was dew

You shine like love You shine like hate until I can’t remember the difference

Voll Blüten steht der Pfirsichbaum nicht jede wächst zur Frucht sie schimmern hell wie Rosenschaum durch Blau und Wolkenflucht. Wie Blüten geh'n Gedanken auf hundert an jedem Tag -- lass' blühen, lass' dem Ding den Lauf frag' nicht nach dem Ertrag! Es muss auch Spiel und Unschuld sein und Blütenüberfluss sonst wär' die Welt uns viel zu klein und Leben kein Genuss.

More than nakedness, for there is no cover to take. The fire in your eyes is ringed with water; wide and cool. We are far from the brutal place, but you do not think so. You take my hand and disappear like you were never there, except that I am now somewhere else.

There is no beauty in sadness. No honor in suffering. No growth in fear. No relief in hate. It’s just a waste of perfectly good happiness.

Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it.

Well, I always know what I want. And when you know what you want--you go toward it. Sometimes you go very fast, and sometimes only an inch a year. Perhaps you feel happier when you go fast. I don't know. I've forgotten the difference long ago, because it really doesn't matter, so long as you move.

When you think this pain is all you deserve, you are right. You are the only one that can decide how long you will walk in hell.