A Quote by James Russell Lowell

The nurse of full-grown souls is solitude. — © James Russell Lowell
The nurse of full-grown souls is solitude.
It will be full of precious stones and jewels, and best of all, full of precious souls!-Immortal souls, saved souls that love Jesus and that you won to the Lord.
Solitude is creativity's best friend, and solitude is refreshment for our souls.
I think all animals have souls. I feel certain that if we have souls, octopuses have souls, too. If you grant something a soul, it demands a certain level of sacredness. Look around us. The world is holy. It is full of souls.
Solitude is the best nurse of wisdom.
Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
You know how it is when two souls meet in a burst of ecstatic volubility, with hearts tickling to hear and to tell, to know everything, to reveal everything, the shared reverence for the other's otherness, a feeling of solitude radiantly snapped by full *contact* - all that?
I had grown a thin mustache, I was a full-grown man, and yet I was completely helpless and without a goal in life.
Religion seems to have grown an infant with age, and requires miracles to nurse it, as it had in its infancy.
Solitude is the nurse of enthusiasm, enthusiasm is the true part of genius.
As a model, I didn't have an identity; I was a chameleon, a silent actress. I was an amorphous thing. I wasn't full of personality, I was full of solitude and solemnity. I wasn't a cover-girl type.
My mom's a nurse so I'd kind of grown up with, around medicine which is probably why I became an actress instead.
My fans have grown up with me and seen my life change over the years, from a young girl with 'Goodies' to a full-grown woman and now mom.
Poetry is, above all, a singing art of natural and magical connection because, though it is born out of one's person's solitude, it has the ability to reach out and touch in a humane and warmly illuminating way the solitude, even the loneliness, of others. That is why, to me, poetry is one of the most vital treasures that humanity possesses; it is a bridge between separated souls.
I, too, seem to be a connoisseur of rain, but it does not fill me with joy; it allows me to steep myself in a solitude I nurse like a vice I've refused to vanquish.
Prayerless souls are Christless souls, Christless souls are Graceless souls and Graceless souls shall soon be damned souls. See your peril, you that neglect altogether the blessed privilege of prayer! You are in the bonds of iniquity, you are in the gall of bitterness. God deliver you, for Hisname's sake!
There is not true intimacy between souls who do not know how to respect one another's solitude.
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