A Quote by Ninon de L'Enclos

Who has not raised a tombstone, here and there, over buried hopes and dead joys, on the road of life? Like the scars of the heart, they are not to be obliterated. — © Ninon de L'Enclos
Who has not raised a tombstone, here and there, over buried hopes and dead joys, on the road of life? Like the scars of the heart, they are not to be obliterated.
I now believe when I'm dead and buried my tombstone will read, "I'm not entirely sure the band's over."
When I am dead and buried, on my tombstone I would like to have it written, 'I have arrived.' Because when you feel that you have arrived, you are dead.
Hatred is a heavy burden. It sinks the heart deep in the breast, and lies like a tombstone on all joys.
Nothing opens the heart like a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes...and whatever lies upon the heart.
James Joyce buried himself in his great work. _Finnegan's Wake_ is his monument and his tombstone. A dead end.
Oh, I know I'll improve. It's just that my life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes now. That's a sentence I read once, and I say it over to comfort myself in these times that try the soul.
THE HEART'S DEAD ARE NEVER BURIED.
A decade of cutting away dead flesh, cauterizing old scars ripped open over and over and still it is not enough.
My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.
Here may I live what life I please, Married and buried out of sight, - Married to pleasure and buried to pain, - Hidden away amongst scenes like these, Under the fans of the chestnut trees; Living my child-life over again, With the further hope of a fallen delight, Blithe as the birds and wise as the bees.
Praying actualizes and deepens our communion with God. Our prayer can and should arise above all from our heart, from our needs, our hopes, our joys, our sufferings, from our shame over sin, and from our gratitude from the good. It can and should be a wholly personal prayer.
Historic scores cannot be settled, and scars cannot be obliterated.
Although the constant shadow of certain death looms over everyday, the pleasures and joys of life can be so fine and affecting that the heart is nearly stilled in astonishment.
The Gospel is not presented to mankind as an argument about religious principals. Nor is it offered as a philosophy of life. Christianity is a witness to certain facts; to events that have happened, to hopes that have been fulfilled, to realities that have been experienced, to a Person who has lived and died and been raised from the dead to reign forever.
Of present fame think little, and of future less; the praises that we receive after we are buried, like the flowers that are strewed over our grave, may be gratifying to the living, but they are nothing to the dead.
The greatest joys in life are found not only in what we do and feel, but also in our quiet hopes and labors for others.
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