Quotes About Comfort

It is good to find comfort in memories," Mr. Fry said gently.

they'll evoke fond memories, and they may bring you some comfort." Henry could not imagine such a day, but he thanked her. "The girls will cherish

The refrigerator was one of the main things my mother prayed to. She said that a cold beer could make you love a refrigerator.

High heels are a plot against women, they throw our spines out and stop us from standing on the ground.

I realized that a book can reach out and embrace you like an arm and make you walk away from everything you thought you understood.

The measuring and mixing always smoothed out her thinking processes - nothing was as calming as creaming butter - and when the kitchen was warm from the oven overheating and the smell of baking chocolate, she took final stock of where she'd been and where she was going. Everything was fine.

You got shot at and you still got me an air conditioner.

Allie put her chin on his shoulder to look into the carton. He had great shoulders and Chinese food. At the moment, he was the perfect man.

I swear, Nell said, walking faster, you're looking at a life of hamburger and no yelling. She held the dachshund closer, and it sighed this time and put its head on her arm, and she stopped to look down into its eyes. Hello, she said, and SugarPie stared back, pathetic and wide-eyed in the glow from the streetlight, her eyelashes fluttering like a Southern belle confronted by a Yankee.

Last night you slept alone because you'd had a hell of a day and I'd promised myself I'd keep you safe. When I get back today, I can take you home, I can take you to a friend's, or you can stay here." His gaze slid over her like a lover's touch. "But you won't sleep alone." His husky voice was almost hypnotic. "And I can't guarantee you'll get much sleep.

and then, it's just me alone in bed with a man who can sleep with his back to me while I cry silent tears tha make the pillow wet around my head.

God allows you to struggle, even though his power could prevent it, because his wise and compassionate authority knows that the benefit of your struggle far outweighs the comfort you may experience from his rescue.

The tunnels comfort me, I guess, because they'te mine. They know what's inside me and they feel the way I do. Always. Like, you know, when you bomb a test but it's sunny outside? Well, that doesn't happen in the tunnels," she laughs. "They're always dark inside, like me, but inside, I'm like the tunnel—dark, winding, and twisting.

Maybe it was inertia -or worse, fear- that was keeping me in the same place.

Moochie, I hope that wherever you are, you can catch every cat you chase, that you get to eat every chicken wing you find, and that nobody complains when you wake them up in the middle of the night and pretend you have to go out just so you can nudge them out of the warm spot in the bed.

But nothing will persuade me that the mere fact of being in a place is enough in itself to justify the effort of getting out of bed to become a tourist, or even a traveller. I don't have the slightest wish to be intrepid. I don't want to prove myself to myself or anyone else. I don't care if no one thinks me brave or hardy. I have no concern at all that I did not have whatever it is I should have had to take a dive out of a plane or off a building. None of that matters to me in the least.

Turn soft and lovely anytime you have the chance.

Christian, how did you enjoy comfort before? Was the creature anything to you but a conduit, a pipe, that conveyed God's goodness to you? 'The pipe is cut off,' says God, 'come to me, the fountain, and drink immediately.' Though the beams are taken away, yet the sun remains the same in the firmament as ever it was.

One drop of the sweetness of heaven is enough to take away all the sourness and bitterness of all the afflictions in the world.

Idling has always been my strong point.

The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone.

Un tom?r nakts d?v? droš?bas un sp?ka saj?tu. T?s varen?bas priekš? m?su s?k?s b?das apkaunotas atk?pjas.

What an ocean of boredom might be saved if science could but give us a barometer foretelling us our changes of temperament! How much more to our comfort we could plan our lives, knowing that on Monday, say, we should be feeling frivolous; on Saturday "dull to bad-tempered.

What does it matter what any of us says about anything? Nobody takes much notice of it, luckily for everybody. This reflection must be of great comfort to editors and critics. A conscientious man who really felt that his words would carry weight and influence with them would be almost afraid to speak at all. It is the man who knows that it will not make an ounce of difference to anyone what he says, that can grow eloquent and vehement and positive.