A Quote by Pat Conroy

I stood face to face with the moon and the ocean and the future that spread out with all its bewildering immensity before me. — © Pat Conroy
I stood face to face with the moon and the ocean and the future that spread out with all its bewildering immensity before me.
As the moon retaineth her nature, though darkness spread itself before her face as a curtain, so the Soul remaineth perfect even in the bosom of the fool.
O Christ, on you the many-eyed cherubim are unable to look because of the glory of your countenance, yet out of your love you accepted spittle on your face. Remove the shame from my face, and grant me to have an unashamed face before you at the time of prayer.
Before I go to bed I clean my face with a cleansing milk and cotton pads and then wash my face thoroughly with a foamy face wash. I apply a calamine lotion on my face and a medicated moisturizer on my face and neck. I repeat the same procedure after I wake up in the morning.
When we are face to face with truth, the point of view of Krishna, Buddha, Christ, or any other Prophet, is the same. When we look at life from the top of the mountain, there is no limitation; there is the same immensity.
The process is learning to turn your back on everything and everyone and face that immensity. And only after you've done that can you then turn around and face the world again with new, clear eyes.
I stood in this unsheltered place, 'til I could see the face behind the face.
I've had doors slammed in my face, I've been shouted at in my face in meetings when I've stood up for myself.
When a man makes a reverent face before a face that is no face - that is idol worship!
I hear poets complaining: 'We face what our forebears did not face. We face TV. We face radio. We face this and that.'
How much more beautiful is the moon, Slanting down the gauffered branches of a plum-tree; The moon Wavering across a bed of tulips; The moon, Still, Upon your face. You shine, Beloved, You and the moon. But which is the reflection?
The pages and the words are my world, spread out before your eyes and for your hand to touch. Vaguely, I can see you face looking down into me, as I look back. Do you see my eyes?
... so long as woman sat with bandaged eyes and manacled hands, fast bound in the clamps of ignorance and inaction, the world of thought moved in its orbit like the revolutions of the moon; with one face (the man's face) always out, so that the spectator could not distinguish whether it was disc or sphere.
"Face the brutes." That is a lesson for all life-face the terrible, face it boldly. Like the monkeys, the hardships of life fall back when we cease to flee before them.
You do not know the unfathomable cowardice of humanity...servile in the face of force, pitiless in the face of weakness, implacable before blunders, indulgent before crimes...and patient to the point of martyrdom before all the violences of bold despotism.
The face of totalitarianism turned out to be a mask - obviously - but the face of Capitalism has no face at all.
My varnashram refuses to bow the head before the greatest potentate on earth, but my varnashram compels me to bow down my head in all humility before knowledge, purity, before every person where I see God face to face.
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