A Quote by Justin Vernon

Our lives feel like these epochs, but really we are dust in the wind. — © Justin Vernon
Our lives feel like these epochs, but really we are dust in the wind.
Our lives feel like these epochs, but really, we are dust in the wind.
We feel the breath of the wind upon our cheeks, we see the dust and the leaves blowing before the wind, we see the vessels at sea driven swiftly towards their ports; but the wind itself remains invisible. Just so with the Spirit; we feel His breath upon our souls, we see the mighty things He does, but Himself we do not see. He is invisible, but He is real and perceptible.
Our lives are but specks of dust falling through the fingers of time. Like sands of the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.
Our thoughts are epochs in our lives; all else is but as a journal of the winds that blow while we are here.
God’s definition of success is really one of significance-the significant difference our lives can make in the lives of others. The significance doesn’t show up in won-loss records, long resumes, or the trophies gathering dust on our mantels. It’s found in the hearts and lives of those we’ve come across who are in some way better because of the way we lived.
The heart is like a mirror. When we dust it off, we are able to see ourselves. The dust is all our stuff - guilt, anger - this stuff is reflected back to us. Practice removes the dust from the mirror of our hearts.
Our lives are like a candle in the wind.
I think it's hard sometimes for people to grapple with the real-life consequences of political change. I think that, we as a culture, feel like politics is one sector of our lives that can feel apart from our personal lives and the cultural things we're interested in and the sports we watch. It feels like this separate, different thing.
I don't enjoy "Dust in the Wind"as much. But I do enjoy "Song for America," "Carry on, Wayward Son," and many songs- Kansas is really a drummer's dream to play in. And I like 'em all.
Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.
I wish I could close my eyes and be blown into dust and nothingness, feel all my thoughts disperse like dandelion fluff drifting off on the wind. But his hands keep pulling me back: into the alley, and Portland, and a world that has suddenly stopped making sense.
I think people feel like there are all these things in our lives that we don't really have control over.
We write dust epitaphs for our vanquished enemies and watch them blow away in the desert wind.
Various epochs of the past have had their own characteristic struggles and interests. Each of these great epochs has left behind itself a kind of cultural deposit, like a geologic stratum. These deposits have found their way into educational institutions in the form of studies, distinct courses of study, distinct types of schools.
I feel like the closest that we get to fulfilling our calling is making a difference in other people's lives. I feel like it's different for everybody. Our purpose and our calling are different. We're all called to do different things. But some way, somehow, it has to be impacting other people. If not, what are you doing? How does it have an impact? How does it have an eternal impact? It has to be investing in other people, somehow making a difference in their lives. When we do that, I really believe that we'll fulfill why we're here and what we're supposed to do.
The person who strays away from the source is unroofed and is like dust blown about by the wind.
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