A Quote by Dave Eggers
If your hand doesn't work for it, your heart doesn't feel sorry for it.
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Once a day, sit quietly and place a hand upon your heart. Send it love, and allow yourself to feel the love your heart has for you. It has been beating for you since before you were born. Your heart is love, and the blood in your veins is joy. Your heart is now lovingly pumping joy throughout your body. All is well, and you are safe.
Go out there and swear to this world your oath, not with your words, but with what you do. Not with your hand over your heart, but with your hand outstretched to a world that desperately needs your hand, your help, your insights, your creativity, your honor, your courage. It needs you.
Happiness comes from within you. If your heart is happy, you can do anything you put your mind to do. Purify your heart. Cleanse it. Make it a wake-up routine. Your environment may be harsh, difficult and tumultuous but if you work on your heart, you can be calm amidst all those challenges. So, to be happy, you not only have to work with all your heart. You have to work on your heart. You will glow from the inside out
Think with your heart. See with your heart. Hear with your heart. Feel with your heart. Act with your hear. Speak with your heart. For love is the highest, most powerful, durable human capacity.
Let your heart feel for the afflictions and distress of everyone, and let your hand give in proportion to your purse.
Be spectacularly great at what you do. Wear your passion on your sleeve and hold your heart in the palm of your hand. And work hard. Really hard.
Put down your cell phones, put everything away, and feel your blood pulsing in you, feel your creative impulse, feel your own spirit, your heart, your mind. Feel the joy of being alive and free.
I am sorry," I whispered. "I am sorry for all of the ways that I failed you. I am sorry that I was not there to save you, or to die alongside you. I am sorry that I have kept you with me for so long, trapped in my heart, bound in sorrow and remorse. I forgive you too. I forgive you for leaving me, and I forgive you for returning. I forgive you your anger, and your grief. Let this be an end to it.
When you give your heart and you give it to God, where your treasure is, that's where your heart is. And so you put your heart in your hand which is in the form of monetary- or money, or offering, and you say, 'God! Here it is!'
Having a rough day? Place your hand over your heart. Feel that? It's called purpose. You're alive for a reason. Don't give up
No. Take the heart first. Then you don't feel the cold so much. The pain so much. With the heart gone, there's no reason to stay your hand. Your eyes can look on death and not tremble. It's the heart that betrays us, makes us weep, makes us bury our friends when we should be marching ahead. It's the heart that sickens us at night and makes us hate who we are. It's the heart that sings old songs and brings memories of warm days.
Let your heart feel for the afflictions and distresses of every one, and let your hand give in proportion to your purse; remembering always the estimation of the widow's mite, but, that it is not every one who asketh that deserveth charity; all, however, are worthy of the inquiry, or the deserving may suffer.
Where is your heart? Is your heart with God? Is it with your own ego or your lust? Is it with your greed, your pride, envy, or your resentment? This is a time where you can go into yourself and ask: Where is my heart? Ramadan is a time to give the heart back to the One who possesses the hearts.
I'm sorry to inform you that your 50 year warranty has expired on your back, knees, and memory. Luckily your lifetime warranty on your heart is still in effect. Of course, that becomes void and expires when you do.
As your heart goes, so goes your family! If your heart isn't right, no child raising system, rules, or gimmicks will ever work. As your heart goes, so goes your parenting!
Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand.
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