A Quote by Teresa of Avila

Truth suffers, but never dies. — © Teresa of Avila
Truth suffers, but never dies.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. Anaïs Nin I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved. George Eliot Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
One friend dies and we remain indifferent; another dies, perhaps less intimate, and we see ourselves as dead, and weep, mourn, tear our hair or find ourselves caught up in the madness of the wake, competing with others as to who was closest, now suffers most.
Hate cannot destroy hate, but love can and does. Not the soft and negative thing that has carried the name and misrepresented the emotion, but love that suffers all things and is kind, love that accepts responsibility, love that marches, love that suffers, love that bleeds and dies for a great cause - but to rise again
Inquiry is human; blind obedience brutal. Truth never loses by the one but often suffers by the other.
The genuine essence of truth never dies.
Man never dies, nor is he ever born; bodies die, but he never dies.
The conscience is eternal and never dies. Peace if possible, but truth at any rate.
The man who loves with his whole heart truth will love still more he who suffers for truth.
Historically whoever advocates truth always suffers. I am just a fighter for the truth. Our truths are universal
What is it that dies? A log of wood dies to become a few planks. The planks die to become a chair. The chair dies to become a piece of firewood, and the firewood dies to become ash. You give different names to the different shapes the wood takes, but the basic substance is there always. If we could always remember this, we would never worry about the loss of anything. We never lose anything; we never gain anything. By such discrimination we put an end to unhappiness. (118-119)
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
In deference to such spectacular carnage it is perhaps perverse to dwell upon one person's death, but we are creatures so constituted that the passing of one friend or one acquaintance has a profounder effect that that of 100,000 strangers. If there is any metaphorical truth in the Jewish proverb that he who saves one life saves the whole world, then there is equal metaphorical truth in the proposition that when one person dies, the whole world dies with them.
The truth is not delicate and it does not suffer from denial—the truth only dies when true stories are untold.
He who suffers in patience, surfers less and saves his soul. He who suffers impatiently, suffers more and loses his soul.
The dreamer dies, but never dies the dream
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