A Quote by Theodor Haecker

All beauty of this world is wet with the dew of tears. — © Theodor Haecker
All beauty of this world is wet with the dew of tears.
God washes the eyes by tears until they can behold the invisible land where tears shall come no more. O love! O affliction! ye are the guides that show us the way through the great airy space where our loved ones walked; and, as hounds easily follow the scent before the dew be risen, so God teaches us, while yet our sorrow is wet, to follow on and find our dear ones in heaven.
We must know the difference between sweat and tears. Sweat is wet. Tears are wet. Sweat is salty. Tears are salty. But progress comes through sweat. Progress never came through tears.
The Holy Scriptures praise the dew of the morning and the dew of the evening; ros matutinum, ros serotinum! Happy is he who possesses the gift of tears! when young, he will bear flowers; when old, fruit!
Imagine a multidimensiona l spider's web in the early morning covered with dew drops. And every dew drop contains the reflection of all the other dew drops. And, in each reflected dew drop, the reflections of all the other dew drops in that reflection. And so ad infinitum. That is the Buddhist conception of the universe in an image.
Sooner mayest thou trust thy pocket to a pickpocket than give loyal friendship to the man who boasts of eyes to the heart never mounts in dew! Only when man weeps he should be alone, not because tears are weak, but they should be secret. Tears are akin to prayer,--Pharisees parade prayers, imposters parade tears.
Practicing with the wet ball is the key to get in the best shape for fielding when there is dew.
On the Death of his Child Dew Evaporates And all our world is dew...so dear, So fresh, so fleeting
Better than any argument is to rise at dawn and pick dew-wet red berries in a cup.
Delicious tears! The heart's own dew.
The smile that illumines the features of beauty, When kindled by virtue, alluring appears; But smiles, tho' alluring, no magic can borrow, To vie with the softness of beauty in tears. The smiles that are sweetest are often deceiving; Too often a mask which the cold-hearted wears; But a tear is the holiest offspring of feeling, And monarchs are weak before beauty in tears.
The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
He is man whose heart is spirited and eyes are wet each moment on account of the sorrow, compassion, virtue, beauty, and nobility that decorate this world.
Tier on tier of beautiful mountains and streams Blue green vistas locked in white clouds The mist makes my bandana wet Dew coats my grass cape My feet climb in straw sandals My hand holds an old wooden stick When I gaze down again on the dusty world It has become a land of phantoms and dreams to me
A red, red rose, all wet with dew, With leaves of green by red shot through.
Of all the portions of life it is in the two twilights, childhood and age, that tears fall with the most frequency; like the dew at dawn and eve.
I sat up in bed. My T-shirt was soaking wet. My pillow was wet. My hair was wet. And my room was sticky and humid.
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