The hero is the one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by. The saint is the man who walks through the dark paths of the world, himself a light.
There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
You can''t have a light without a dark to stick it in.
We are each gifted in a unique and important way. It is our privilege and our adventure to discover our own special light.
Lethargics are to be laid in the light, and exposed to the rays of the sun for the disease is gloom.
Light gives of itself freely, filling all available space. It does not seek anything in return; it asks not whether you are friend or foe. It gives of itself and is not thereby diminished.
We cannot hold a torch to light another''s path without brightening our own.
Firelight will not let you read fine stories but it''s warm and you won''t see the dust on the floor.
Moonlight is sculpture.
In a profound sense every man has two halves to his being; he is not one person so much as two persons trying to act in unison. I believe that in the heart of each human being there is something which I can only describe as a "child of darkness" who is equal and complementary to the more obvious "child of light."
There are two kinds of light - the glow that illumines, and the glare that obscures.
Into my heart''s night Along a narrow way I groped; and lo! the light, An infinite land of day.
Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.
Let your light shine. Shine within you so that it can shine on someone else. Let your light shine.
What I give form to in daylight is only one per cent of what I have seen in darkness.
There are two kinds of light--the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.
Popular Authors View all
Recently Added Quotes
I knew her better than herself …and she was beautiful and strong and felt deep. It has always surprised me to see the way she saw herself; how little she thought about her person. It struck me as surprising because every single time I’ve seen her, I’ve thought her larger than life. And that’s why the world feared her. Because they couldn’t compare to her; she raised a new bar for others to be measured by. Because looking at the sun hurts…and she was that to me. My own piece of sky.
Aisha…is it wrong of me to wish you to break a leg? Into many tiny, little pieces? And when or if it heals…would it be too much to hope it ends up looking in the wrong direction…like backwards? Because I truly do. From the bottom of my little, black heart.” She crossed her fingers over said thing.