Category Archives: HEART

The rose speaks of love silently, in a language known only to the heart.

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Give a rose to a blind man, and he can't analyze it, but 
he will tell you that it is a rose; the greatest philosopher 
cannot do more. 
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“She cast her fragrance and her radiance over me. I ought never to have run away from her… I ought to have guessed all the affection that lay behind her poor little stratagems. Flowers are so inconsistent! But I was too young to know how to love her.” ― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

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Flowers open without choosing the rich man’s ground, the moon shines bright on mountains and rivers; only within the heart of men is evil; all other things must resolve themselves into heaven’s parental care of the human race. (Chinese).

Where did you come from, Baby dear? Out of the everywhere into the here. Where did you get your eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. [George MacDonald (1824-1905), Scottish poet. At the Back of the North Wind

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A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavour by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.  

Washington Irving

Read more wishes and quotes: http://www.wishesquotes.com/quotes/mother-quotes-sayings-about-moms-and-motherhood#ixzz3hwpMHaAl

Ye’re like a rotten nut, no worth cracking for the kernel.

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Amaru :

When the bond of love broke, the respect born of affection withered, good feelings fled, and that man walked before me like any other, Good Friend, I imagine all this, think on days gone by and wonder why my heart hasn’t cracked into a hundred bits.

[Amaru (c. seventh century A.D.), Kashmirian king, compiler, author of some of the poems in the anthology which bears his name. translated from the Amaruataka by Martha Ann Selby, vs. 43, Motilal Banarsidass (1983).]

The skeletons in my closet carouse and party all night, When one opens the door to pee, gee, I get such a fright.

Smartass Rabbi

Feb 23

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No matter that my heart sinks,
sighs, with the weight of skeletons-

paths I forgot to follow
have slowly sealed

rooms go unrecognised
for fear of change

and I cry at the uncertainty of rainbows.

All the daydreams I stole,
refusing to give them back

are stored as silver dust
and each day is a small breath.

I can feel the souls of my ancestors calling me back home To all the familiar places and tracks I once did roam

Source: http://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/arts/calling-me-home#ixzz3cLm28UAs

Lyndon Lane, Goodooga, NSW0 INDIAN

foto – izzy foreal at indian restaurant in bellingen 2013

I look back with gladness to the day when I found the path to
the land of heart’s desire, and thank Fate ceaselessly with a
loud voice that she did not permit the town to sap all the years
away while the heart was turning to wind-voices and
flower-faces and the hands of kindly earth.


–   Mrs. George Cran, The Garden of Ignorance, 1913)

When I had a look at the lights of Broadway by night, I said to my American friends : “What a glorious garden of wonders this would be, to any who was lucky enough to be unable to read. G. K. Chesterton

http://www.midmanhattan.com/articles/new-york-quotes.htm

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There’s a broken light for every heart on Broadway.

There’s a broken heart for every light on Broadway. 

Diane Dickey

as far as,  the eye can see, over the fallen, past the weary, along the trail, carved by thousand tears. Maiya

http://achingforpng.wordpress.com/tag/poems-about-papua-new-guinea/

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Night sky

Oh glamorous thief
You have stolen all my dreams
And hidden them each In your obsidian keep
Where I search for them in vain.

MICHAEL DOM

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/poem_detail.aspx?ID=527792

memory breathes her vesper sigh to thee. And, as I watch the line of light, that plays Along the smooth wave toward the burning west,

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There is in every human heart,
Some not completely barren part,
Where seeds of truth and love might grow, 
And flowers of generous virtue flow;
To plant, to watch, to water there,
This be our duty, be our care.

– Sir John Bowring (English author, poet, political economist, and 4th governor of Hong Kong; b. 1792 – d. 1872), from Matins and Vespers: With Hymns and Occasional Devotional Pieces(1827)

Cunning tanuki; he preys upon my humble soul; I have no defence.

http://forums.totalwar.com/showthread.php/18059-Total-War-Shogun-2-quotes

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Sonnet CXLVIII

O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love’s eye is not so true as all men’s ‘No.’
How can it? O, how can Love’s eye be true,
That is so vex’d with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep’st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.

William Shakespeare

Proverbs 10:8 ESV : The wise of heart will receive commandments, but a babbling fool will come to ruin.

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Language is an echo of our need to communicate, which is why it exists. I’ve never been interested in going totally beyond meaning, because there’s no point in writing. That’s not what poems are about, you might as well publish a leaf or a rock. But I am interested in the tensions you get when you go beyond conventionally expected meaning and come back again.   JOHN TRANTER. 

The Dresser Removes the Kimono of Mourning.

http://www.australianpoetry.org/event/vic-the-dresser-removes-the-kimono-of-mourning/

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Jewish Blessing of the Mourners 
Those who are worn out and crushed by this mourning, let your hearts consider this:
this is the path that has existed from the time of creation and will exist forever.
Many have drunk from it and many will yet drink.
As was the first meal, so shall be the last.
May the master of comfort comfort you.
Blessed are those who comforts the mourners.

http://www.shiva.com/learning-center/resources/poems-of-comfort/

A bear teaches us that if the heart is true, it doesn’t matter much if an ear drops off. Exley, Helen

http://www.teddybeardirectory.ca/TeddyBearQuotes-TeddyBearDirectory.htm

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KING POETRY. 

The hunter was quite happy, with trophy number one,
And he stood atop the bear cub with his bloody huge bear gun;
Then something tapped his shoulder, and he felt his rising hair,
He spun around and looked up at a bloody huge brown bear.

http://kingpoetry.com/hunting.htm