If someone breaks your heart, just punch them in the face. Oh sure, it seems obvious now, but you'd be amazed at how many people don't think of it when it's relevant. Seriously, punch them in the face and go get some ice cream.
I've died 3 times, I've been shot in the back, stabbed once in my arm, stabbed 2 times in my back, run over by a truck, been poisoned, broke both of my arms, nose (3 times broken), ribs, both legs, but a broken heart hurt me the most.
true love is felonious… You take someone’s breath away… You rob them of the ability to utter a single word… You steal a heart.
I wish you luck,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. He still had the most beautiful eyes of any boy she'd ever seen. But now her heart beat so much faster for someone else.
Only those things the heart believes are true.
Tell me, you vain professor, when did you shed a tear for the deadness, hardness, unbelief, or earthliness of your heart? Do you think that such an easy religion can save you? If so, we may invert Christ's words and say, 'Wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to life, and may there be that go in there. '
We are commanded to have only one enemy, the devil. With him never be reconciled! But with a brother, never be at enmity in thy heart.
Like sacrifices, prayer is intended to change man, not God. Its purpose is to cultivate a contrite heart, to promote feelings of humility and inadequacy in man, whilst encouraging reliance on Divine assistance.
Growing up in Middlesbrough [in England], I listened to artists like Chuck Berry, Little Richard, and Howlin' Wolf. It was like another world. Something happened to me when I heard that music. It leapt out of the speakers and went straight into my heart. And I thought, "Right, that's what I'm doing. "
She worked in order to live, and presently fell in love, also in order to live, for the heart, too, has its hunger.
One look at love and you may see it weaves a web over mystery, all ravelled threads can rend apart for hope has a place in the lover's heart. Hope has a place in a lover's heart.
Fair words gladden so many a heart.
What I've found is that country doesn't refer to where you grew up as much as where your heart grows down, where it takes root. Country is a state of mind. I believe what ultimately defines being country is simple: a loving heart, a helping hand, an open mind, poor in spirit.
The touch was exactly what the touch of a lover's hand should be: familiar, yet exciting as a whispered promise. I felt an almost irresistible urge to take her hand and place it flat against my chest, near my heart. Maybe I should've done it. I know now that she would've laughed, if I'd done it, and she would've liked me for it. But strangers that we were then, we stood for five long seconds and held the stare, while all the parallel worlds, all the parallel lives that might've been, and never would be, whirled around us.
God is more concerned about your heart than your performance. If your heart is right, your performance will eventually catch up.
Heart always wins out over the mind. The heart, although reckless and suicidal and a masochist all on its own, always gets its way.
An unhappy gentleman, resolving to wed nothing short of perfection, keeps his heart and hand till both get so old and withered that no tolerable woman will accept them.
A bulging portfolio of spiritual experiences matters little if it does not have the power to sustain us through the inevitable moments of grief, loss, and change. Knowledge and achievements matter little if we do not yet know how to touch the heart of another and be touched. Wisdom is alive only as long as it is lived, understanding is liberating only as long as it is applied.
The flow of time cleanses the past and heals the wounds in people's hearts. But there are wounds we cant speak of.
Out of my deeper heart a bird rose and flew skywards. Higher and higher did it rise, yet larger and larger did it grow. At first it was but like a swallow, then a lark, then an eagle, then as vast as a spring cloud, and then it filled the starry heavens. Out of my heart a bird flew skywards. And it waxed larger as it flew. Yet it left not my heart.
