Keyword: Broken Heart
Quotes: 44 total.
Sorted by: Search Results (Descending)
|Words (count)||60||10 - 586|
|Search Results||34||10 - 210|
|Date (year)||1835||-950 - 1995|
The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.
How else but through a broken heart
May Lord Christ enter in?
You can't start a fire, sitting 'round crying over a broken heart. This gun's for hire, Even if we're just dancing in the dark. You can't start a fire, worrying about your little world falling apart. This gun's for hire, Even if we're just dancing in the dark.
All the vampires walkin' through the valley Move west down Ventura Boulevard. And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows All the good girls are home with broken hearts.
Mrs. Driscoll clapped her hands together and the bracelets jingled brightly. "Yes, Mr. Morgan! The theater can heal a wounded spirit and broken heart! I've seen it countless times. When we are completely artificial, we can find out what's real."
Badlands, you gotta live it everyday. Let the broken hearts stand As the price you've gotta pay. We'll keep pushin' till it's understood And these badlands start treating us good.
Forget all feuds, and shed one English tear O'er English dust. A broken heart lies here.
"And whether ye swear a hive of monks,
Or one fair wife to friend,
This is the manner of Christian men,
That their oath endures the end.
"Love with the shield of the Broken Heart
Ever his bow doth bend,
With a single shaft for a single prize,
And the ultimate bolt that parts and flies
Comes with a thunder of split skies,
And a sound of souls that rend.
"So shall you earn a king's sword,
Who cast your sword away."
And the King took, with a random eye,
A rude axe from a hind hard by
And turned him to the fray.
For the swords of the Earls of Daneland
Flamed round the fallen lord.
The first blood woke the trumpet-tune,
As in monk's rhyme or wizard's rune,
Beginneth the battle of Ethandune
With the throwing of the sword.
I heard your suitcase say goodbye And as my broken heart lies bleeding You say true love it's suicide.
Give God thy broken heart, He whole will make it: Give woman thy whole heart, and she will break it.
It is only with true love and compassion that we can begin to mend what is broken in the world. It is only these two blessed things that can begin to heal all the broken hearts.
You can play the game and you can act out the part. Though you know it wasn't written for you. But tell me, how can you stand there with your broken heart, Ashamed of playing the fool? One thing can lead to another; it doesn't take any sacrifice. Oh, father and mother,and sister and brother, If it feels nice, don't think twice.
Even the pain of what had felt on occasion like an irretrievably broken heart had consistently proved less lasting than she’d initially imagined and expected; the revelation that a boy’s taste was so grotesquely deficient he could prefer somebody else to her always reduced both the intensity and the duration of the anguish her heart demanded be endured to mark such a loss of regard.
Spare parts And broken hearts Keep the world turnin' around.
I read with every broken heart
We should become more adventurous
There is nothing like a broken heart to nourish your own sense of self
I was never fit to say a word to a sinner, except when I had a broken heart myself.
Just because our political heroes were murdered does not mean that the dream does not still live, buried deep in our broken hearts.
Broken heart and broken bones Think of how a castrated horse feels One more quirky clichéd phrase You're the one I wanna refill
As for broken hearts, no self-respecting young woman shows such an ornament at any well regulated breakfast-table; they are kept in dark drawers and closets like other broken furniture.
The tragedy starts from the very first spark
Losing your mind for the sake of your heart
The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start.
I am ice and dust. I am sky.
I can see horses wading through snowdrifts.
My broken hearts, my fabulous dances.
My fleeting song, fleeting.
The world is so loud. Keep falling. I'll find you. Wild Man
Humility, what is it? It is a gracious gift of the Holy Ghost. It is the same disposition which the Psalmist called a " broken heart," and that consciousness of need which Jesus had in view when He said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit." So far as it has respect to God, it is that docility which is willing to learn what God teaches; that conscious penury, which is willing to accept whatever God proffers; that submission which is willing to do what God desires, and to endure whatever God deems needful.
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her.
Can't you hear me Crying all alone with my broken heart Torn apart
Water has its moods, flowing or still; it can lure you like a lover, or look as bleak as a broken heart.
There may be some tenderness in the conscience and yet the will be a very stone; and as long as the will stands out, there is no broken heart.
When midnight's done, and the day won't start,
And all I ever gave you was a broken heart,
It's hard to admit but it's easy to tell
That evil is alive and well.
Lately I've been lookin' through the windows of my soul And I can see there's not much left to hold Just an empty space surrounded by the pieces of A badly broken heart that's forgotten how to love.
I won't stand bein' broken hearted; I won't be pushed around. The rules were set when we got started, But lately I have foundWe've spent too little time and too much heartache. I feel we're losin' ground. And lately I've been hearin' You won't be needin' me around.
I thought that prattling boys and girls Would fill this empty room; That my rich heart would gather flowers From childhood's opening bloom. One child and two green graves are mine, This is God's gift to me; A bleeding, fainting, broken heart— This is my gift to Thee.
Prayer invites the Eternal Presence to suffuse or spirits and let God's will prevail in our lives. Prayer cannot bring water to parched fields, or mend a broken bridge, or rebuild a ruined city; but prayer can water an arid soul, mend a broken heart, and rebuild a weakened will.
For the last 30 years, I've been leading a life of crime and international intrigue that's involved 40 stamps in my passport, love affairs, and broken hearts to go with each one of them. You would have to live three lifetimes to catch up with just the allegations that follow me!
In an age when nations and individuals routinely exchange murder for murder, when the healing grace of authentic spirituality is usurped by the divisive politics of religious organization, and when broken hearts bleed pain in darkness without the relief of compassion, the voice of an exceptional poet producing exceptional work is not something the world can afford to dismiss.
Interviewer says "How do you become a member of the World/Inferno Friendship Society?" Jack Responds "It's a long story. You just have to be at the right place at the right time, you have to have a broken heart and ambition to be more then you think you can be. And then you meet people that have the same dreams, and you get in the bus." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIa0NKCuMZ0
For ages the world has been waiting and watching; millions, with broken hearts, have hovered around the yawning abyss; but no echo has come back from the engulfing gloom —silence, oblivion, covers all. If indeed they survive; if they went away whole and victorious, they give us no signals. We wait for years, but no messages come from the far-away shore to which they have gone.
I’m not ready for Christmas don’t need a gift list don’t give a shit how many shopping days are left this holiday season give me one reason i should believe it’s ever gonna change and why should i be merry when every January i come back so very broken hearted I’m not ready for Christmas I think i’ll skip this one and Santa I will see you next year.
My Saviour, mid life's varying scene Be Thou my stay; Guide me, through each perplexing path, To perfect day. In weakness and in sin I stand; Still faith can clasp Thy mighty hand, And follow at Thy dear command. My Saviour, I have nought to bring Worthy of Thee; A broken heart Thou wilt not spurn; Accept of me. I need Thy righteousness Divine, I plead Thy promises as mine, I perish if I am not Thine.
Like a Long Magnolia Blossom Bending to the Wind. Under heavy silence. Of a house in mourning. Only the cry of cicadas. Ma'am, ma'am, ma'am. Seem to long for you who is now gone. Under the August sun. The Indian Lilacs turn crimson. As if trying to heal the wounds of the mind. My wife has departed alone. Only I am left. Like a lone magnolia blossom bending to the wind. Where can I appeal. The sadness of a broken heart.
Life was not a valuable gift, but death was. Life was a fever-dream made up of joys embittered by sorrows, pleasure poisoned by pain, a dream that was a nightmare-confusion of spasmodic and fleeting delights, ecstasies, exultations, happinesses, interspersed with long-drawn miseries, griefs, perils, horrors, disappointments, defeats, humiliations, and despairs — the heaviest curse devisable by divine ingenuity; but death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man's best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free.
-up your life 3. You have to have a broken heart 4. Then you have to break someones heart (Gina Rodriguez (Moist Gina),the bass player, chimes in "or have had broken a heart) 5. Then you have to be politically not be astute, I know even in English that was weird 6. OK, you have to want to change the world 7. You have to want to lose money 8. You have to want to make people smile 9. You have to be able to laugh and cry at the same time 10. And number ten you have to be able to be, when you whisper you absolutely as sincere as when you scream. Ten Steps" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIa0NKCuMZ0
In this connection I call to mind Genesis, chapter xlvii...the pathetic story of the years of plenty and the years of famine in Egypt, and how Joseph, with that opportunity, made a corner in broken hearts, and the crusts of the poor, and human liberty--a corner whereby he took a nation's money all away, to the last penny...then took the nation itself, buying it for bread, man by man, woman by woman, child by child, till all were slaves...and it was a disaster so crushing that its effects have not wholly disappeared from Egypt to-day... Was Joseph establishing a character for his race which would survive long in Egypt? and in time would his name come to be familiarly used to express that character--like Shylock's? It is hardly to be doubted. Let us remember that this was centuries before the Crucifixion.
Many of my Hamptstead friends may remember this 'young lady' [an ash tree] at the entrance to the village. Her fate was distressing, for it is scarcely too much to say that she died of a broken heart. I made this drawing [Study of Trees, pencil on paper, circa 1821] when she was in full health and beauty; on passing some times afterwards, I saw, to my grief, that a wretched board had been nailed to her side, on which was written in large letters: 'All vagrants and beggars will be dealt with according to law.' The tree seemed to have felt the disgrace, for even then some of the top branches had withered. Two long spike nails had been driven far into her side. In another year one half became paralysed, and not long after the other shared the same fate, and this beautiful creature was cut down to a stump, just high enough to hold the board.
Far to the King's left Elf the bard
Led on the eastern wing
With songs and spells that change the blood;
And on the King's right Harold stood,
The kinsman of the King.
Young Harold, coarse, with colours gay,
Smoking with oil and musk,
And the pleasant violence of the young,
Pushed through his people, giving tongue
Foewards, where, grey as cobwebs hung,
The banners of the Usk.
But as he came before his line
A little space along,
His beardless face broke into mirth,
And he cried: "What broken bits of earth
Are here? For what their clothes are worth
I would sell them for a song."
For Colan was hung with raiment
Tattered like autumn leaves,
And his men were all as thin as saints,
And all as poor as thieves.
No bows nor slings nor bolts they bore,
But bills and pikes ill-made;
And none but Colan bore a sword,
And rusty was its blade.
And Colan's eyes with mystery
And iron laughter stirred,
And he spoke aloud, but lightly
Not labouring to be heard.
"Oh, truly we be broken hearts,
For that cause, it is said,
We light our candles to that Lord
That broke Himself for bread.
"But though we hold but bitterly
What land the Saxon leaves,
Though Ireland be but a land of saints,
And Wales a land of thieves,
"I say you yet shall weary
Of the working of your word,
That stricken spirits never strike
Nor lean hands hold a sword.
"And if ever ye ride in Ireland,
The jest may yet be said,
There is the land of broken hearts,
And the land of broken heads."
Not less barbarian laughter
Choked Harold like a flood,
"And shall I fight with scarecrows
That am of Guthrum's blood?
"Meeting may be of war-men,
Where the best war-man wins;
But all this carrion a man shoots
Before the fight begins."
And stopping in his onward strides,
He snatched a bow in scorn
From some mean slave, and bent it on
Colan, whose doom grew dark; and shone
Stars evil over Caerleon,
In the place where he was born.
For Colan had not bow nor sling,
On a lonely sword leaned he,
Like Arthur on Excalibur
In the battle by the sea.
To his great gold ear-ring Harold
Tugged back the feathered tail,
And swift had sprung the arrow,
But swifter sprang the Gael.
Whirling the one sword round his head,
A great wheel in the sun,
He sent it splendid through the sky,
Flying before the shaft could fly—
It smote Earl Harold over the eye,
And blood began to run.
Colan stood bare and weaponless,
Earl Harold, as in pain,
Strove for a smile, put hand to head,
Stumbled and suddenly fell dead;
And the small white daisies all waxed red
With blood out of his brain.
And all at that marvel of the sword,
Cast like a stone to slay,
Cried out. Said Alfred: "Who would see
Signs, must give all things. Verily
Man shall not taste of victory
Till he throws his sword away."
Then Alfred, prince of England,
And all the Christian earls,
Unhooked their swords and held them up,
Each offered to Colan, like a cup
Of chrysolite and pearls.
And the King said, "Do thou take my sword
Who have done this deed of fire,
For this is the manner of Christian men,
Whether of steel or priestly pen,
That they cast their hearts out of their ken
To get their heart's desire.