A Quote by David Whyte

Regret is a short, evocative and achingly beautiful word: an elegy to lost possibilities even in its brief annunciation. — © David Whyte
Regret is a short, evocative and achingly beautiful word: an elegy to lost possibilities even in its brief annunciation.
The written word can be powerful and beautiful - but films transport us to another place in a way that even the most evocative words never can.
If I regret leaving City, I'd regret leaving Madrid, I would regret Arsenal, and I would regret maybe even Metz, where I started off. So I have no regrets in life; life is too short to start regretting things.
I regret that I was never an athlete. I regret there isn't time in life. I regret that so many of my friends have died. I regret that I was not brave at certain times in my life. I regret that I'm not beautiful. I regret that my conversation is largely with myself. I'm not part of the conversation of the world.
We must know, as much as possible, in our beautiful art...what we are talking about and the only way to know is to have lived and loved and cursed and floundered and enjoyed and suffered. I think I don't regret a single "excess" of my responsive youth I only regret, in my chilled age, certain occasions and possibilities I didn't embrace.
A word is elegy to what it signifies.
Be careful before leaving someone in a sorrowing situation. Say a word of prayer with them and share even a brief word of encouragement from the Scriptures.
Girls aren't beautiful, they're pretty. Beautiful is too heavy a word to assign to a girl. Women are beautiful because their faces show that they know they have lost something and picked up something else.
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the spoken word, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within The world and for the world; And the light shone in the darkness and Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled About the center of the silent Word. Oh my people, what have I done unto thee. Where shall the word be found, where shall the word Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
I think I don't regret a single 'excess' of my responsive youth - I only regret, in my chilled age, certain occasions and possibilities I didn't embrace.
who hasn't slept in an empty bed sometimes, longing for the embrace of another person on the achingly short trip to the grave?
All I knew about the word cyberspace when I coined it, was that it seemed like an effective buzzword. It seemed evocative and essentially meaningless. It was suggestive of something, but had no real semantic meaning, even for me, as I saw it emerge on the page.
I love going to the Via Giulia, a beautiful old cobbled street, which has a bridge at one end behind the Palazzo Farnese. It has long creepers hanging from it, and is the most evocative, beautiful place to stand and enjoy the city.
It seems to me that, with but slight reserve and modification, we may apply to our departed friend his own pathetic and beautiful elegy upon another.
We humans, though troubled and warlike, are also the dreams, thinkers, and explorers inhabiting one achingly beautiful planet, yearning for the sublime, and capable of the magnificent.
In short, we cannot grow, we cannot achieve authentic discovery, and our eyes cannot be cleansed to the truly beautiful possibilities of life, if we simply live a neutral existence.
Most reckless things are beautiful in some way, and recklessness is what makes experimental art beautiful, just as religions are beautiful because of the strong possibilities that they are founded on nothing.
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