Quotes about Connection

By lifting our hands, however, we are indicating to the Lord that we want to open up our hearts and lives to his Holy Spirit. But this is one of the most difficult things for us to do.

My experience teaches me that if a man has little or no influence with those by whose side he lives, as a rule there is something wrong with him.

We bereaved are not alone. We belong to the largest company in all the world--the company of those who have known suffering.

Blindness separates people from things; deafness separates people from people.

Once I knew the depth where no hope was, and darkness lay on the face of all things... But a little word from the fingers of another fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness, and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.

You cannot touch the clouds, you know; but you feel the rain and know how glad the flowers and the thirsty earth are to have it after a hot day. You cannot touch love either; but you feel the sweetness that it pours into everything. Without love you would not be happy or want to play.

Many scholars forget, it seems to me, that our enjoyment of the great works of literature depends more upon the depth of our sympathy than upon our understanding.

In a word, literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet, gracious discourse of my book-friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness.

As I wander through the dark, encountering difficulties, I am aware of encouraging voices that murmur from the spirit realm. I sense a holy passion pouring down from the springs of Infinity. I thrill to music that beats with the pulses of God. Bound to suns and planets by invisible cords, I feel the flame of eternity in my soul.

Each individual has a subconscious memory of the green earth and murmuring waters, and blindness and deafness cannot rob him of this gift from past generations. This inherited capacity is a sort of sixth sense- a soul sense which sees, hears, and feels, all in one.

All speech, written or spoken, is a dead language, until it finds a willing and prepared hearer.

One of the things that gave me most pleasure was a letter sent to me by Sebastian Vettel, written in his own hand, full of beautiful words and kindness. I wasn't expecting this; usually, drivers don't do this: they drive, and that's it. But he is a beautiful person.