A Quote by Bryant H. McGill

Want is an empty void - your real value is full and abundant. — © Bryant H. McGill
Want is an empty void - your real value is full and abundant.
Love makes you empty - empty of jealousy, empty of power trips, empty of anger, empty of competitiveness, empty of your ego and all its garbage. But love also makes you full of things which are unknown to you right now; it makes you full of fragrance, full of light, full of joy.
The world is an abundant place. Abundant with opportunity, abundant with good fortune, abundant with ideas, and abundant with love. Reach into that abundance and take what is rightfully yours. It is your inheritance, gifted to you by God. Let yourself have it.
Your hands may be full of money and your brain full of information but if your heart is empty, your life is very empty.
People are scared to empty their minds fearing that they will be engulfed by the void. What they don't realize is that their own mind is the void.
Void is when there is absolutely nothing there and the nothing is natural, a complete vacuum. But empty - with empty, you are aware of what's supposed to be there. Empty means something is missing.
We want to get full value out of labour so that we may be able to pay it full value. It is use - not conservation - that interests us.
Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void.
California is a queer place in a way, it has turned its back on the world, and looks into the void Pacific. It is absolutely selfish, very empty, but not false, and at least, not full of false effort.
If your life is full, you will paint full pictures. If it is empty, your pictures will be empty too.
All things are void. So how possibly could there be any obscurations since everything is void, when you're void itself? There's only the void. In the void, there's only shining, perfect clear light of reality.
The idea of some kind of objectively constant, universal literary value is seductive. It feels real. It feels like a stone cold fact that In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust, is better than A Shore Thing, by Snooki. And it may be; Snooki definitely has more one-star reviews on Amazon. But if literary value is real, no one seems to be able to locate it or define it very well. We're increasingly adrift in a grey void of aesthetic relativism.
An empty canvas is full only if you want it to be full.
What you want to do is you want to own as little sort of hard infrastructure as possible, and your real value is your name and how you build that up.
Age-old question: Is the glass half empty or half full? Answer: Who cares? Does it really matter whether the glass is half full or half empty? The issue is whether it quenches your thirst.
The house of a childless person is a void, all directions are void to one who has no relatives, the heart of a fool is also void, but to a poverty stricken man all is void.
You see so many artists who are so talented end up living sad, empty lives. This industry takes so much out of you that without the accountability and leaving God in the center, you can be left so empty and void.
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