Explore Quotes on Light

With faith . . . we must walk to the edge of the light and into the darkness. As we so walk I testify and promise that the light will move. When I was your age and wondering some of the exact same things that you are now wondering, I never would have imagined that someday [we] would be at Ricks College serving as we are. . . . I know the light moves as we walk in faith to the edge of the light.

The actual materials are important. A book at the nightstand is important - a light you can get at - or a flashlight as Kerouac had a brakeman's latern.

Remain faithful to the light... Remember, the sun is shining behind the clouds.

The light of Heaven restore; Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.

Saying Good-bye to the God of Disease (2) Thousands of willow branches in a spring wind. Six hundred million of China, land of the gods, and exemplary like the emperors Shun and Yao. A scarlet rain of peach blossoms turned into waves and emerald mountains into bridges. Summits touch the sky. We dig with silver shovels and iron arms shake the earth and the Three Rivers. God of plagues, where are you going? We burn paper boats and bright candles to light his way to heaven.

Misled by fancy's meteor ray, By passion driven; But yet the light that led astray Was light from heaven.

Therefore, to be possess'd with double pomp, To guard a title that was rich before, To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

"Heaven" refers to the realm that is the interior part of a human being, and that the "divine self" is none other than the selfless light existing in our innermost depths.

The armies of the day have chased the army of the night, Heaven and earth are filled with purity and light.

And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light.

Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape. It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know, Have always known, know that we can't escape, Yet can't accept. One side will have to go. Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring Intricate rented world begins to rouse. The sky is white as clay, with no sun. Work has to be done. Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

The prayer of Ajax was for light.

By the time they were pulling into the parking lot of the A&P, the mood was fading, the moment gone. Amy could feel it go. Perhaps it was nothing more than the two doughnuts expanding in her stomach full of milk, but Amy felt a heaviness begin, a familiar turning of some inward tide. As they drove over the bridge the sun seemed to move from a cheerful daytime yellow to an early-evening gold; painful how the gold light hit the riverbanks, rich and sorrowful, drawing from Amy some longing, a craving for joy.

Who is blameless? Only those that blame no one for aught that is, has been or may be. Only in creating hope, life, understanding, harmony, does one become blameless. For, as you understand, they that would be loved must show themselves lovely; they that would have friends must be a friend to others. For in the manner you treat others, you treat your Lord. Let that light which has aroused you be alive, awakened. Condemn no one. And as you come seeking, know, understand, as you create same in the lives of others so is it reflected in your own.

Rigel, Betelgeuse, and Orion. There was no finer church, no finer choir, than the stars speaking in silence to the many consumptives silently condemned, a legion upon the dark rooftops. The wind came down from the north like a runner in lacrosse, violent and hard, to batter every living thing. They were there, each one alone in conversation with the stars, mining ephemeral love from cold and distant light.

The principle tragedy of my life is, like all tragedies, an irony of Destiny. I reject real life as if it were a condemnation; I reject dreams as if they were an ignoble liberation. [...]After the end of the stars uselessly whitened in the morning sky and the breeze became less cold in the barely orange tinged in the yellow of the light on the scattered low clouds, I, who hadn't slept, could finally, slowly raise my body, exhausted from nothing from the bed from which I had thought the universe.

History is indeed the witness of the times, the light of truth.

If you strive only to avoid the darkness or to cling to the light, you cannot live in balance. Try striving to be conscious of all that you are.

As I glow in this cold, dark night, I know I can't be a light unless I turn my face to You.

The ancient commission of the writer has not changed. He is charged with exposing our many grievous faults and failures, with dredging up to the light our dark and dangerous dreams for the purpose of improvement.

This is the treasure we need today - helping the child become independent of us and make his way by himself, receiving in return his gifts of hope and light.