There are hearts to gladden... kind words to say... gifts to be given... deeds to be done.

What is the heart but a spring, and the nerves but so many strings, and the joints but so many wheels, giving motion to the whole body?

He lives down in a ribcage in the dry leaves of a heart.

Grant me, O Lord my God, a mind to know you, a heart to seek you, wisdom to find you, conduct pleasing to you, faithful perseverance in waiting for you, and a hope of finally embracing you. Amen.

Fear aint in the heart of me, i learned just do it, you get courage from your fears right after you go through it.

Then we are living in a place abandoned by God," I said, disheartened. "Have you found any places where God would have felt at home?" William asked me, looking down from his great height.

He who does not regret the break-up of the Soviet Union has no heart; he who wants to revive it in its previous form has no head.

The greatest gift I can give is to see, hear, understand, and touch another person.

My heart is closer to acting than singing. It's always been that way.

It's all about knowing when to listen to that conversation and - without sounding really hokey - when to tune it out and follow your heart.

That old feeling is still in my leaking heart.

Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.

Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.

There are so many ways in which the heart of man conceals itself from man!

Love doesn't die; the men and women do.

The problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat

The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself

Talk, talk, talk: the utter and heartbreaking stupidity of words.

The heart of another is a dark forest, always, no matter how close it has been to one’s own.

There are moments when the heart is generous, and then it knows that for better or worse our lives are woven together here, one with one another and with the place and all the living things.

Protest that endures, I think, is moved by a hope far more modest than that of public success: namely, the hope of preserving qualities in one's own heart and spirit that would be destroyed by acquiescence.

...And we pray, not for new earth or heaven, but to be quiet in heart, and in eye clear. What we need is here.

The only way of knowing a person is to love them without hope.

Home may be where the heart is but it's no place to spend Wednesday afternoon.