O, You who are ever giving life to all life, moving all creatures, root of all things, washing them clean, wiping out their mistakes, healing their wounds, You are our true life, luminous, wonderful, awakening the heart from its ancient sleep.
— Hildegard of Bingen
Tremendous Wounded Heart quotations
Holy Spirit, the life that gives life: You are the cause of all movement.
You are the breath of all creatures. You are the salve that purifies our souls. You are the ointment that heals our wounds. You are the fire that warms our hearts. You are the light that guides our feet. Let all the world praise you.
If you have a wounded heart, touch it as little as you would an injured eye.
There are only two remedies for the suffering of the soul: hope and patience.
Love her, love her, love her! If she favours you, love her.
If she wounds you, love her. If she tears your heart to pieces – and as it gets older and stronger, it will tear deeper – love her, love her, love her!
One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone.
They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. That is what lies at the root of true harmony.
By far the strongest poison to the human spirit is the inability to forgive oneself or another person. Forgiveness is no longer an option but a necessity for healing.
Bury my heart at Wounded Knee.
Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.
Our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion.
The wound is the place where the Light enters you.
These words are razors to my wounded heart.
In every community, there is work to be done.
In every nation, there are wounds to heal. In every heart, there is the power to do it.
Hearts Live By Being Wounded
People think SEALs are cold-blooded, heartless, wound-up, brainwashed killers.
They imagine you can just point a SEAL in a direction and say, 'Go kill.' The truth is you're talking about a bunch of kind-hearted, jovial guys. The only thing that separates them is mental toughness.
Caught like a leaf in the wind Lookin' for a friend Where can you turn Whisper the words of a prayer and you'll find Him there Arms open wide, love in His eyes Jesus - He meets you where you are Jesus - He heals your secret scars All the love you're looking for is Jesus The friend of a wounded heart
Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us.
I shall not rest quiet in Montparnasse.
I shall not lie easy at Winchelsea. You may bury my body in Sussex grass, You may bury my tongue at Champmedy. I shall not be there. I shall rise and pass. Bury my heart at Wounded Knee
Give to a wounded heart seclusion; consolation nor reason ever effected anything in such a case.
When the heart is cut or cracked or broken Do not clutch it Let the wound lie open Let the wind from the good old sea blow in to bathe the wound with salt and let it sting. Let a stray dog lick it Let a bird fly in the hole and sing a simple song like a tiny bell and let it ring.
By embracing your mother wound as your yoga, you transform what has been a hindrance in your life into a teacher of the heart.
In the face of so many wounds that hurt us and could lead to a hardness of heart, we are called to dive into the sea of prayer, which is the sea of the boundless love of God, in order to experience his tenderness
The wounds I carry, she carries them too. The unshed tears in my head flow through her heart too .
Leave it all in the Hands that were wounded for you
Your greatest adversary is also your greatest teacher.
Like it or not, it is the job of certain people to bring out the worst in you. What they trigger is already in you. They are here to reveal the sore, tender wounded places in your heart and mind, and they are providing you with a wonderful and divine opportunity for healing.
Today the heart of God is an open wound of love.
He aches over our distance and preoccupation. He mourns that we do not draw near to Him. He grieves that we have forgotten Him. He weeps over our obsession with muchness and manyness. He longs for our presence.
Wherever you go - in every country, or in every continent, people yearn and hunger for only one thing, to love and be loved. Love transcends international boundaries and heals the wounds of hatred, racial, prejudice, bigotry and ignorance. It is the ultimate truth at the heart of all creation.
I said: what about my eyes? God said: Keep them on the road.
I said: what about my passion? God said: Keep it burning. I said: what about my heart? God said: Tell me what you hold inside it? I said: pain and sorrow? He said: Stay with it. The wound is the place where the Light enters you.
A lovely face is the solace of wounded hearts and the key of locked-up gates.
And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine Burned like the ruby fire set In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine, Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate, Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.
Such wounds to the heart will probably never heal.
But we cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever.
And no matter what anybody says about grief and about time healing all wounds, the truth is, there are certain sorrows that never fade away until the heart stops beating and the last breath is taken.
Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love?
No person, possession, profession, or position ever fills the cup of a wounded, empty heart. It's an emptiness only God can fill.
Forgiveness is no longer an option but a necessity for healing.
Lamentations comfort only by lacerating the heart still more.
Such grief does not desire consolation. It feeds on the sense of its hopelessness. Lamentations spring only from the constant craving to re-open the wound.
