Quotes About Comfort

If there are 3 girls in a class with 11 boys those 3 girls may feel like they don't belong and no amount of preaching about gender equity is going to change that. But if the class is just girls you may get more girls to sign up and the girls will be more comfortable and will likely gain more competence.

Nature held me close and seemed to find no fault with me.

A bran' new book is a beautiful thing, all promise and fresh pages, the neatly squared spine, the brisk sense of a journey beginning. But a well-worn book also has its pleasures, the soft caress and give of the paper's edges, the comfort, like an old shawl, of an oft-read story.

But then, shall I never get any older than I am now? That'll be a comfort, one way -- never to be an old woman -- but then -- always to have lessons to learn!

You are sad, the Knight said in an anxious tone: let me sing you a song to comfort you. Is it very long? Alice asked, for she had heard a good deal of poetry that day. It's long, said the Knight, but very, VERY beautiful. Everyone that hears me sing it - either it brings the TEARS into their eyes, or else - Or else what? said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause. Or else it doesn't, you know.

Somos apenas crianças crescidas, esperando que o sono nos de guarida.

You can do without the day if you've a lamp quiet-lighted and kind in your heart.

A gentle breeze catches in the branches then and I hear it, soft and low, a murmured prayer--Gem-ma, Gem-ma--and then the leaves bend down and trail delicate fingers across my cold cheeks.

The wind picks up. It sends leaves scurrying for cover until a softer breeze blows through, settling them down again as if to say, Shhh, there, there, it's all right. One leaf still dances in the air. It spins higher and higher, defying gravity and logic, stretching for something just out of reach. It shall have to fall, of course. Eventually. But for now, I hold my breath, willing it to keep going, taking comfort in its struggle.

In a world beyond this one, that river goes on singing sweetly, enchanting us with what we want to hear, shaping what we need to see in order to keep going. In those waters, all disappointments are forgotten, our mistakes forgiven. Gazing into them, we see a strong father. A loving mother. Warm rooms where we are sheltered, adored, wanted. And the uncertainty of our futures is nothing more than the fog of breath on a windowpane.

When you looked up to the sky and cried 'Why?' sometimes the sky shrugged, yet other times it answered with warm assurance of linked hands.

I hate high heels. Walking in high heels for eight hours a day should be forbidden by the Geneva Convention.

Mom's crying a bit, quietly, the way she always does. She never utters a sound even when she's crying, and that makes me a little sad. Doesn't seem right. When you cry, people should hear you. The world should stop. I squeeze Mom's hand and she squeezes back. I don't say anything, but at least she knows I've heard her. (Going Bovine)

It was funny how one afternoon with a best friend could set a girl right.

Evie was still crying and so didn't know what Sam whispered to Theta over the top of her head. She only knew that now there were two sets of arms around her, holding her close, holding her up. She only knew that she had family after all.

In the end, I take my shoes off and stick my feet in, letting the lukewarm water lick at my ankles. It feels good, and not just because I'm stoned. I make a mental note to add this to Dulcie's list of things worth living for. For some reason, I keep seeing her rolling her eyes at me, that big, goofy grin stretching her face like Silly Putty. On my private list, I add her smile. She doesn't have to know.

I'm Sorry,' he says. It's simple and direct, with none of the nonsense about God calling home an angel too young and who are we to question his mysterious ways.

He took comfort in the neon signs, the wild strands of jazz creeping out of clubs whenever happy swells of people pushed through the doors in their finery.

Theta rolled over, facing Evie, their noses nearly touching. "Evil?" "Yes?" "I love you. Now, shut up and go to sleep.

It was a thread woven through all of humankind: this need for story to explain the unexplainable, to comfort the hurting, to promise that no one was alone. Evie's uncle Will had said there was no greater power on earth than story. And in this shared moment, Memphis knew that it was so.

Rest. Then speak of what you know. Show them what you have seen. Witness until their comfort yields to questions. Till their eyes cry with truth. Till their ears would hear the voices of tomorrow. Till their hearts, heavy with knowledge, beat in understanding.

When you looked up to the sky and cried Why? sometimes the sky shrugged. Yet other times it answered with the warm assurance of linked hands. Sorry, it whispered on the wind. Sorry for all the pain loneliness and disappointment. But there is this, too.

This brings a fresh wave of tears. To my great surprise, Kartik wipes them away with his hand. Meraa mitra yahaan aaiye, he murmurs. I understand only a little Hindi, enough to know what he as said: Come here, my friend . I've never known a braver girl, he says.

When people talked about family as something special, a place where you belonged, a dull anger nipped at Henry, a feeling that he'd been cheated of this basic comfort.