Writing help us to express our thoughts, to share experiences, to think, to love, to inspire, to motivate, to challenge, to liberate, to learn, to hope, to smile and to wonder.
Kindness and awareness work together. Through awareness we understand the underlying beauty of everything and every being.
Compassion is all inclusive. Compassion knows no boundaries. Compassion comes with awareness, and awareness breaks all narrow territories.
God is the most beautiful, and beauty is the expression of God. If you can't appreciate beauty in the world how can you understand God?
To every Armageddonist, every earth lover must keep saying with all the sincerity and affection we can muster, “May God make this world as beautiful to you as it has been to me.
We must experience Heaven on earth;
May your homes, surroundings and work places portray a safe clean environment.
There are reasons we congregate in these hot spots- to worship beauty and to feel its effects light up the electrolytes in the bloodstream.
I don't want to change the world. We have changed the world to a point that it is barely recognizable. I think it's time to stop thinking change and try to hold on to what beauty and function remains.
The graceful wings of a dove lead to the endless imagination in a dream wings of pain.
Life is defined by time, appreciate the beauty of time;
A time to plant, a time to harvest.
A time to cry, a time to laugh.
A time to be sad, a time to be happy.
A time to be born, a time to die.
I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.
Life is not always perfect. Like a road, it has many bends, ups and down, but that’s its beauty.
It was a sort of ferocious, quiet beauty, the sort that wouldn't let you admire it. The sort of beauty that always hurt.
The beauty of that June day was almost staggering. After the wet spring, everything that could turn green had outdone itself in greenness and everything that could even dream of blooming or blossoming was in bloom and blossom. The sunlight was a benediction. The breezes were so caressingly soft and intimate on the skin as to be embarrassing.
Beauty doesn't have to be about anything. What's a vase about? What's a sunset or a flower about? What, for that matter, is Mozart's Twenty-third Piano Concerto about?
All in the eye of the beholder - Some of the most destructive forces in the world (Fire & Water), can also have the power of beauty.
If you take a look around this great big world, every beautiful thing that you see God created.
Your external appearance to can be great, but your stunning beauty beams from within.
The moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.
That which is ordinary, is the most beautiful rare treasure you will thirst to find in the artificial world.
Bees blew like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and when it wasn't raining a diamond dust took over which veiled and yet magnified all things
The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.
When nature suffers because it is destroyed by human activities, the notion of beauty is really losing its meaning, because nothing is more aesthetic than the natural beauty.
...knowing too that [the sky] was just a kind of rainbow made it glorious. A rainbow that was blue everywhere and covered everything.
To watch the dawn emerge from the night undoubtedly gives a heavenly feeling! The fresh sun rays entwine with the dark horizon and peep out of the creek with tranquil grin.
Ah yes, the beauty of nature...once we understand life's delicateness, then we will surely protect and cherish all of its forms.
Dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them.
One marvel of a day he had walked so far that when he returned the moon was high and full and all the world was purple shadow and silver.
I took me to the Banks of the River, and tarried there awhile, as the lowering Sun made one with the Water, giving generously of Itself & its Diverse Colors, in a Splay of Magnificence that preceded a most wonderful Silence.
The town itself is disagreeable; but then, all around, you find an inexpressible beauty of nature.
Up there in that room, as I see it, is the reading and the thinking-through, a theory of rivers, of trees moving, of falling light. Here on the river, as I lurch against a freshening of the current, is the practice of rivers. In navigating by the glow of the Milky Way, the practice of light. In steadying with a staff, the practice of wood.
The landscape belongs to the person who looks at it..." -Ralph Waldo Emerson
1903