Oh my poor soul, what is to become of you? - Where do you go?
A noble soul spreads even over a face in which the architectonic beauty is wanting an irresistible grace, and a often even triumphs over the natural disfavor.
Ladies love outlaws, like babies love stray dogs. Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold, outlaws touch ladies somewhere deep down in their soul.
Nothing that comes from the deep, passional soul is bad, or can be bad.
Some books you read. Some books you enjoy. But some books just swallow you up, heart and soul.
Until your personality has exhausted its obsession with running the show, your soul isn’t given the space to express itself. Your personality can be threatened by your soul, because your personality has controlled your life for a long time and doesn’t want to give up control. Your personality is like a wild horse that tries to throw off the rider trying to tame it. The rider is your soul.
Style used to be an interaction between the human soul and tools that were limiting. In the digital era, it will have to come from the soul alone.
All I can think is that when you torment a person. . . the soul dies. When the soul dies, I suppose mercy dies, too.
Pythagoras used to say that he had received as a gift from Mercury the perpetual transmigration of his soul, so that it was constantly transmigrating and passing into all sorts of plants or animals.
No man can hope to accomplish anything great in this world until he throws his whole soul, flings the force of his whole life, into it. It is not enough simply to have a general desire to accomplish something. There is but one way to do that; and that is, to try to be somebody with all the concentrated energy we can muster.
I've got soul and I'm super bad.
The circumstances of your life are neither good nor bad. They are appropriate to the needs of your soul. They may or may not be what your personality desires.
Celebrity is a corrosive condition for the soul.
A disobedient soul will win no victory, even if the Lord Jesus himself, in person, were to hear its confession.
The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails whereon my soul is grooved to run
Peace does not dwell in outward things, but within the soul.
If you looked down to the bottom of my soul, you would understand fully the source of my longing and – pity me. Even the open, transparent lake has its unknown depths, which no divers know.
So in accepting the leading of the sentiments, it is not what we believe concerning the immortality of the soul, or the like, but the universal impulse to believe, that is the material circumstance, and is the principal fact in this history of the globe.
A soul needs a purpose to live and so I concluded that my purpose was to kill everyone besides myself. I felt alive. --Gaara
To love is for the Soul to choose a companion, and travel with it along the perilous defiles and winding ways of life; mutually sustaining, when it is rugged with obstructions, and mutually rejoicing, when rich broad plains and sunny slopes make journeying delight.