A Quote by Robert Frost

I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart — © Robert Frost
I dwell with a strangely aching heart In that vanished abode there far apart
The Spirit of God is given to the true saints to dwell in them as his proper lasting abode to dwell in them and to influence their hearts as a principle of new nature or as a divine supernatural spring of life and action.
I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.
Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away.
It is not known precisely where angels dwell whether in the air, the void, or the planets. It has not been God's pleasure that we should be informed of their abode.
This whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space. How far apart, think you, dwell the most distant inhabitants of yonder star, the breadth of whose disk cannot be appreciated by our instruments?
God doesn't dwell in the wooden, stony or earthen idols. His abode is in our feelings, our thoughts.
While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.
You ask me why I dwell in the green mountain; I smile and make no reply for my heart is free of care. As the peach-blossom flows down stream and is gone into the unknown, I have a world apart that is not among men.
You and your heart shouldn't feel so far apart
To struggle when hope is banished! To live when life's salt is gone! To dwell in a dream that's vanished- To endure, and go calmly on!
Throughout it all, I loved her as much as I always had, and I found myself aching for those simpler times of the past. I knew what was happening, of course. As we were drifting apart, I was becoming more desperate to save what we once had shared; like a vicious circle, however, my desperation made us drift apart even further.
I was strangely looking forward to writing about my DUI arrest, only because I've known for four years that I was gonna write about it somehow. I dunno that it was "fun" to write, just something I'd been aching to purge from my system.
When we are parted, let me lie In some far corner of thy heart Silent, and from the world apart, Like a forgotten melody
To be honest with you, I don't have the words to make you feel better, but I do have the arms to give you a hug, ears to listen to whatever you want to talk about, and I have a heart; a heart that's aching to see you smile again.
How much of life could he spend aching? Aching is not a stable condition; it must resolve into something
Earth has nothing more tender than a woman's heart when it is the abode of piety.
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