Quotes About Comfort

Human hands are for holding other hands. Human arms are for holding other humans close.

Time didn't run forwards any more. It was a solid thing you could press yourself against and feel it push back; a thick fluid, half-air, half-glass, that flowed both ways and sent ripples of recollection forwards and new events backwards so that new things I encountered, then, seemed souvenirs from the distant past. Sometimes, a few times, I felt my father must be sitting near me as I sat on a train or in a café. This was comforting. It all was. Because

Tony is waiting outside, his eyes crinkled into a smile. 'Come inside the house,' he says. He knows what I am feeling. And in I go, where the dogs lie flat on the kitchen floor, tails wagging, and the kettle is whistling, and the house is very warm.

I am here, reading with you. I am reading this over your shoulder. I make your home home, I'm the Braille on your wallpaper that only your fingers can read—I tell you where you are. Don't turn to look at me. I am only tangible when you don't look.

He was drinking Harriet's favourite, cold tea... not iced tea, but hot tea that had cooled. They liked him so much. They liked the way he talked when he talked and they liked his quiet when he was quiet.

She had had such a strong feeling that she needed to talk to someone who would tell her some secret that would make everything alright. She had been unable to think who it was.

You told me about how stories come to our aid in times of need.

He held me so tightly that numbness stretched all the way down my arms and only let go a few minutes after he did. It wasn't as nice a feeling as the flag around my shoulders. But I felt more certain of it because it lasted longer.

Isaiah's words: Do not be afraid … I have called you by your name, you are mine. Should you pass through the sea, I will be with you … Should you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, and the flames will not burn you. (43:2) As

Home is any four walls that enclose the right person.

When you're troubled and worried and sick at heart And your plans are upset and your world falls apart, Remember God's ready and waiting to share The burden you find much too heavy to bear. So with faith, let go and let God lead the way Into a brighter and less troubled day.

It took me so many years to move out. I'm definitely a bit of a Peter Pan, reluctant to grow up. It all seemed really nice at home-why change it? Part of me would prefer not to have any responsibility whatsoever.

All that gleaming leather and gold stamping and beautiful type belongs in the pine-panelled library of an English country home; it wants to be read by the fire in a gentleman's leather easy chair--not on a secondhand studio couch in a one-room hovel in a broken-down brownstone front.

Systems Design is a vital part of transforming the transportation industry. At Mayflower-Plymouth, we are rethinking the way people and resources interact with methods of transport, and how to achieve the most efficiency and comfort in those interactions.

I remembered her once saying that life was like your shoes. You couldn't simply expect or imagine that your shoes would fit perfectly. Shoes that pinched your feet were a fact of life.

Toi dont la douceur est si douce Qu'elle console l'Inconnu !

The memory of you saddened my joys, but consoled my sorrows.

Introducing the idea of beauty as a salve and of aesthetics making something difficult accessible.

We need to be angels for each other, to give each other strength and consolation. Because only when we fully realize that the cup of life is not only a cup of sorrow but also a cup of joy will we be able to drink it.

What I dream of is an art that is equilibrated, pure and calm, free of disturbing subject matter, an art that can be for any intellectual worker, for the business man or the writer, a means of soothing the soul, something like a comfortable armchair in which one can rest from physical fatigue.

Mother, give me the sun.

Home is the wallpaper above the bed, the family dinner table, the church bells in the morning, the bruised shins of the playground, the small fears that come with dusk, the streets and squares and monuments and shops that constitute one's first universe.

Routine is a ground to stand on, a wall to retreat to; we cannot draw on our boots without bracing ourselves against it.

The fire is the main comfort of the camp, whether in summer or winter, and is about as ample at one season as at another. It is as well for cheerfulness as for warmth and dryness.