The things that come to us easily, our propensities, are carried on a deep subconscious level into our next life. There are no coincidences.
She touched something deep in his soul. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but the thought of hurting her made his chest ache.
Do not wander in the deeps, Where the Shriker's shadow creeps. When he rises from beneath, Beware the Sharpness of his teeth.
She has often felt that her outsides were too dull for her insides, that deep within her there was something better than what everyone else could see.
Deep down I think I may be just like everyone else. And do you know what, Harry?" "No sir." "That bothers me.
There is so little in the New Testament about sexual love, and most of it consists of Paul heaving a deep sigh and tolerating it like a weakness.
True love is not a strong, fiery, impetuous passion. It is, on the contrary, an element calm and deep. It looks beyond mere externals, and is attracted by qualities alone. It is wise and discriminating, and its devotion is real and abiding.
Internationalism on the other hand admits that spiritual achievements have their roots deep in national life; from this national consciousness art and literature derive their character and strength and on it even many of the humanistic sciences are f...
Events in life mean nothing if you do not reflect on them in a deep way, and ideas from books are pointless if they have no application to life as you live it.
His name is Marcus: he is four and a half and possesses that deep gravity and seriousness that only small children and mountain gorillas have ever been able to master.
His smile wavers. I've been looking at him too long. 'Are you OK?' he says. I nod, take a deep breath. Then I lean over and kiss him.
She came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with a dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wandering afar, star-led.
I fell into a deep sleep tucked in that little cocoon, a deeper sleep than I might of had in years. Right up until someone kicked me and said "Gotcha!
...life's about accumulating wrinkles, deep as rivers and as wide as is needed to travel along their path, so that by the time you're ready to die, your life can be read.
it'll be this kind of deep blue”she said. “The kind of color that somehow sucks your eyes and your ears and all your words —the color of a completely closed-in night
Did I say stab of Self Pity? No, I was trekking through the Swamp of Self Pity at this point, waist deep in my own stinking shit.
Rather than words comes the thought of high windows: The sun-comprehending glass, And beyond it, the deep blue air, that shows Nothing, and is nowhere, and is endless.
I sell sex by the coffee cup. I don’t go by small, medium, or large, I go by deep, deeper, and deepest.
The creative strength is good enough and deep enough to bring itself to flower and to grow in spite of this sickness.
So these things happen, deep in our lives. We do not speak of them. We hide them even from ourselves, but they do not leave us.
Those.. we use to abuse in front of others.. somewhere deep inside.. we wish to be like them..