A Quote by John Ford

They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings. — © John Ford
They are the silent griefs which cut the heart-strings.
The greatest griefs are silent.
Great joys, like griefs, are silent.
There are two kinds of music. One comes from the strings of a guitar, the other from the strings of the heart.
The lute I use has 10 courses and 19 strings, which is quite a lot of strings and a quite different fingerboard width from a classical guitar. I use a combination of flesh and nail when plucking the strings.
It's true; once you are a father, there's no turning back. Your heart strings as well as your purse strings are never again the same.
...the laws of physics, carefully constructed after thousands of years of experimentation, are nothing but the laws of harmony one can write down for strings and membranes. The laws of chemistry are the melodies that one can play on these strings. the universe is a symphony of strings. And the "Mind of God," which Einstein wrote eloquently about, is cosmic music resonating throughout hyperspace.
Music is one of the sharpest blades that we have to cut through the thick entangled web of the external mind and lead us back into the silent cave of our own Heart.
The heart is like a musical instrument of many strings, all the chords of which require putting in harmony.
Nothing opens the heart like a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes...and whatever lies upon the heart.
I certainly have a lot to lament, as do we all, everybody has their griefs. But the griefs we can fix, shouldn't we go around fixing them?
There are chords in the human heart- strange, varying strings- which are only struck by accident; which will remain mute and senseless to appeals the most passionate and earnest, and respond at last to the slightest casual touch.
There are some griefs so loud/They could bring down the sky/And there are griefs so still/None knows how deep they lie.
The cause of Sense, is the External Body, or Object, which presseth the organ proper to each Sense, either immediately, as in theTaste and Touch; or mediately, as in Seeing, Hearing, and Smelling: which pressure, by the mediation of Nerves, and other strings, and membranes of the body, continued inwards to the Brain, and Heart, causeth there a resistance, or counter- pressure, or endeavor of the heart, to deliver it self: which endeavor because Outward, seemeth to be some matter without.
When in these fresh mornings I go into my garden before anyone is awake, I go for the time being into perfect happiness. In this hour divinely fresh and still, the fair face of every flower salutes me with a silent joy. . . . All the cares, perplexities, and griefs of existence, all the burdens of life slip from my shoulders and leave me with the heart of a little child that asks nothing beyond the present moment of innocent bliss.
For me the world has always been more of a puppet show. But when one looks behind the curtain and traces the strings upward he finds they terminate in the hands of yet other puppets, themselves with their own strings which trace upward in turn, and so on. In my own life I saw these strings whose origins were endless enact the deaths of great men in violence and madness. Enact the ruin of a nation.
Is there anything on earth which would have meaning and would even change the course of events not only on earth, but in other worlds?” I asked my teacher. “There is,” my teacher answered me. “Well, what is it?” I asked. “It’s...” began my teacher and suddenly fell silent. I stood and waited intently for his answer. But he was silent. And I stood and was silent. And he was silent. And I stood, silent. And he was silent. We’re both standing and silent. Ho-la-la! We’re both standing and silent. Ho-le-le! Yes, yes, we’re both standing and silent! 16-17 July 1937
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