A Quote by Heinrich Heine
Each violet peeps from its dwelling to gaze at the bright stars above.
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May all the stars hang bright above her dwelling, Silent as though they watched the sleeping earth!
A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now that's a question.
The violets prattle and titter, And gaze on the stars high above.
Above, the stars shone hard and bright, sparks struck off the dark skin of the universe.
Oft in the tranquil hour of night,
When stars illume the sky,
I gaze upon each orb of light,
And wish that thou wert by.
Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me
We go outside, on a clear, cold night. We see millions of stars all over the place, bright and beautiful, each one shining forever. Each moment is forever, it's shining in each moment forever.
Through the window I can see Rooks above the cherry-tree, Sparrows in the violet bed, Bramble-bush and bumble-bee, And old red bracken smoulders still Among boulders on the hill, Far too bright to seem quite dead. But old Death, who can't forget, Waits his time and watches yet, Waits and watches by the door.
It is so easy to take the violet flame and to use it that I am certain that once you begin you will recognize that the violet flame and the angels of the violet flame are the servants of the sons and daughters of God and the children of the Light, that the violet flame joyously serves you and acts to cleanse your entire being so that, as Jesus said, your whole body can be full of light.
So many bright stars, bright in life, burn out quickly.
Night, in which everything was lost, went reaching out, beyond stars and sun. Stars and sun, a few bright grains, went spiraling round for terror, and holding each other in embrace, there in a darkness that outpassed them all, and left them tiny and daunted. So much, and himself, infinitesimal, at the core of nothingness, and yet not nothing.
I was at that time like a fledgling swallow living high up in a niche in the eaves, who from time to time peeps out over the top of its nest with its little bright eyes.
A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human"?
FALLING STARS: Do you remember still the falling stars that like swift horses through the heavens raced and suddenly leaped across the hurdles of our wishes -- do you recall? And we did make so many! For there were countless numbers of stars: each time we looked above we were astounded by the swiftness of their daring play, while in our hearts we felt safe and secure watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate, knowing somehow we had survived their fall.
That which above all other yields the sweetest smell in the air is the violet.
It is important that we have the inner richness to be able to look up at the stars or the moon and compose a poem once in a while. When we open wide our minds and fix our gaze on the universe, we fix our gaze on our own life.
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