Quotes About Comfort

Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my tears to keep My baby sleeps in Heaven's arms Peaceful with angelic charms Take my tears but grant me a kiss From the angel baby I so miss.

Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones.

Give a man a fire and keep him warm for a day. Light a man on fire and he will be warm for rest of his life.

Original Poems for Infant Minds My MotherWho ran to help me when I fell,And would some pretty story tell,Or kiss the place to make it wellMy Mother.

The ground is always soft for the unburdened

Sit tibi terra levis [May the earth rest lightly on you].

Ubi bene ibi patria [Where one is happy, there's one's homeland].

Requiescat in pace [May he rest in peace; May she rest in peace].

Polly, put the kettle on,We'll all have tea.

Con su evangelio, Lucas ha escrito un libro que pueden leer personas que padecen enfermedades interiores y exteriores, para así experimentar en sí mismas la fuerza curativa y consoladora de las palabras.

It's cool to have a well run, comfortable and inviting home.

The priest says that Jesus erred in his original insistence that man must be free to choose whether to follow God or Satan; what men want, the priest says, is not freedom but bread. They want comfort, security, and the certainty of being saved if they follow the dictates of the Church.

My darling one....I shall be thinking of you while you are away and hope you will remember to wrap up warm when you go out at night.

If you want to make someone cry, " Bruno said slowly, "you give them an onion to chop. But if you want them to feel sad, you cook them the dish their mother used to cook for them when they were small...

The first reaction is one of fear. It's not that we fear the unknown. You cannot fear something that you do not know. Nobody is afraid of the unknown. What you really fear is the loss of the known. That's what you fear.

Uncle Etienne says heaven is like a blanket babies cling to.

it is splendid to drowse on the davenport, to be warm and fed, to feel the sentences hoist her up and carry her somewhere else.

Always at the end they sit side by side again and pound the cushions, and slowly the room rematerializes around them. "Ah," he says, more quietly, his accent fading, the faintest touch of dread returning to his voice, "here we are. Home.

I'm scared, Papa." "Keep hold of me.

But this was just a story they told to comfort themselves.

The apartment is sleek and shiny, full of deep carpets that swallow noise.

Ah," he says, more quietly, his accent fading, the faintest touch of dread returning to his voice, "here we are. Home.

the remedy to every woe is prayer

Hope was a sunrise, a friend in an alley, a whisper in an empty corridor.