Gentle Quotes (page 18)
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There is much that I could say about the happy and tender incidents in my childhood days, the sense of security which I enjoyed with my parents, my childish affections and carefree, irresponsible existence in a gentle and affectionate ambience. But my interest is reserved for the steps that I took in my life towards self-realization. All the pleasant points of repose, islands of happiness, paradises whose magic was not unknown to me can remain, as far as I am concerned, in the enchanted...
Herman Hesse
You know," he said with unusual somberness, "I asked my father once why kenders were little, why we weren't big like humans and elves. I really wanted to be big," he said softly and for a moment he was quiet. "What did your father say?" asked Fizban gently. "He said kenders were small because we were meant to do small things. 'If you look at all the big things in the world closely,' he said, 'you'll see that they're really made up of small things all joined together.' That big dragon down...
Margaret Weis
In the words of the Mongolian creation myth: ‘There came a wild dog who was blue and gray and whose destiny was imposed on him by the heavens. His mate was a roe deer. Thus begins another love story. The wild dog with his courage and strength, the doe
with her gentleness, intuition, and elegance. Hunter and hunted meet and love each other.
According to the laws of nature, one should destroy the other, but in love there is neither
good nor evil, there is neither construction nor destruction,...
Paulo Coelho
How can we be sure of anythingthe tide changes.The wind that made the grain wave gently yesterdayblows down the tress tomorrow.And the sea sends sailors crashing on the rocks, as easily as it guides them safely home.I love the seabut it doesn't make me less afraid of itI love youbut I'm not always sure of what you are and how you feel.
Rod McKuen
Vida was sound asleep when I went back to my room. I turned on the light and it woke her up. She was blinking and her face had that soft marble quality to it that beautiful women have when they are suddenly awakened and are not quite ready for it yet. "What's happening?" she said. "It's another book," she replied, answering her own question. "Yes," I said. "What's it about?" she said automatically like a gentle human phonograph. "It's about growing flowers in hotel rooms.
Richard Brautigan
When, on a moonlit night, you see a wide village street with its peasant houses, haystacks, sleeping willows, tranquility enters the soul; in this calm, wrapped in the shade of night, free from struggle, anxiety and passion, everything is gentle, wistful, beautiful, and it seems that the stars are watching over it tenderly and with love, and that this is taking place somewhere unearthly, and that all is well.
Anton Chekhov