Prism Inspirational Quotes

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May Light always surround you; Hope kindle and rebound you. May your Hurts turn to Healing; Your Heart embrace Feeling. May Wounds become Wisdom; Every Kindness a Prism. May Laughter infect you; Your Passion resurrect you. May Goodness inspire your Deepest Desires. Through all that you Reach For, May your arms Never Tire.
D. Simone
Will covers a multitude of flaws, just as love covers a multitude of sins.
Brent Weeks (The Black Prism (Lightbringer, #1))
The written word is all that stands between memory and oblivion. Without books as our anchors, we are cast adrift, neither teaching nor learning. They are windows on the past, mirrors on the present, and prisms reflected all possible futures. Books are lighthouses erected on the dark sea of time.
Greg Weisman
Breathe. It's going to be okay." Cora took a deep breath, eyeing him. "You really think so?" "No," he said baldly. "It's never okay. But I told myself that every night when I was in Prism. I told myself that every morning when I woke up, still in Prism. And I got through, Sometimes that's all you can do. Just keep getting through until you don't have to do it anymore, however much time that takes, however difficult it is.
Seanan McGuire (Beneath the Sugar Sky (Wayward Children, #3))
The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the greyfringed fleece of clouds. No it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language manycoloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?
James Joyce (A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)
Life is complicated until complications don't grace it amid amenable aura.
Akshmala Sharma (Prism of Nature)
We all see the world through the prism of our identity.
Ethan Hawke
And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky - so the space where I exist, and want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime.
Donna Tartt (The Goldfinch)
Using blasphemy as entertainment is as cheap as a comedian telling a fart joke.
Katy Perry
Be on the side of the angels. Be a prism. You have that something within, the higher self.
James Joyce
How we hate to admit that we would like nothing better than to be the slave! Slave and master at the same time! For even in love the slave is always the master in disguise. The man who must conquer the woman, subjugate her, bend her to his will, form her according to his desires—is he not the slave of his slave? How easy it is, in this relationship, for the woman to upset the balance of power! The mere threat of self-dependence, on the woman’s part, and the gallant despot is seized with vertigo. But if they are able to throw themselves at one another recklessly, concealing nothing, surrendering all, if they admit to one another their interdependence, do they not enjoy a great and unsuspected freedom? The man who admits to himself that he is a coward has made a step towards conquering his fear; but the man who frankly admits it to every one, who asks that you recognize it in him and make allowance for it in dealing with him, is on the way to becoming a hero. Such a man is often surprised, when the crucial test comes, to find that he knows no fear. Having lost the fear of regarding himself as a coward he is one no longer: only the demonstration is needed to prove the metamorphosis. It is the same in love. The man who admits not only to himself but to his fellowmen, and even to the woman he adores, that he can be twisted around a woman’s finger, that he is helpless where the other sex is concerned, usually discovers that he is the more powerful of the two. Nothing breaks a woman down more quickly than complete surrender. A woman is prepared to resist, to be laid siege to: she has been trained to behave that way. When she meets no resistance she falls headlong into the trap. To be able to give oneself wholly and completely is the greatest luxury that life affords. Real love only begins at this point of dissolution. The personal life is altogether based on dependence, mutual dependence. Society is the aggregate of persons all interdependent. There is another richer life beyond the pale of society, beyond the personal, but there is no knowing it, no attainment possible, without firs traveling the heights and depths of the personal jungle. To become the great lover, the magnetiser and catalyzer, the blinding focus and inspiration of the world, one has to first experience the profound wisdom of being an utter fool. The man whose greatness of heart leads him to folly and ruin is to a woman irresistible. To the woman who loves, that is to say. As to those who ask merely to be loved, who seek only their own reflection in the mirror, no love however great, will ever satisfy them. In a world so hungry for love it is no wonder that men and women are blinded by the glamour and glitter of their own reflected egos. No wonder that the revolver shot is the last summons. No wonder that the grinding wheels of the subway express, though they cut the body to pieces, fail to precipitate the elixir of love. In the egocentric prism the helpless victim is walled in by the very light which he refracts. The ego dies in its own glass cage…
Henry Miller (Sexus (The Rosy Crucifixion, #1))
Your actions are viewed by observers through prisms shaped by their own interpretations, and sometimes misinterpretations. All you can do is strive to be your best self. Let the chips fall where they may.
Cathryn Louis
Creative problem solving is not necessarily tantamount to cheating.
V. St. Clair (Cave of Nightmares (The Broken Prism, #1))
I like the disaster of the night sky, stars spilling this way and that as if they were upturned from a glass. I like the way good madness feels. I like the way laughter always spills. That's the word for it. It never just comes, it spills. I like the word 'again'. Again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. I like the quiet sound a coffee cup makes when it's set down on a wooden table. So hushed. So inviting. Like morning light yawning through the window and stretching out onto the kitchen floor. I like the way girls' lips look like they're stained with berries. I like the way morning light breaks like a prism through the empty wine bottles on our dusty apartment floor. Glasses empty except for the midnight hour. I like the way blueberries stain my fingers during the summer. I like the way light hits your eyes and turns it into a color that doesn't exist anywhere else other than in this moment. I want it all. I want the breeze to call my name as it rushes down my street, looking for me. I want to feel grass underneath my bare feet and I want to feel the sun kiss freckles onto my cheeks. I want to hear you yell hello as you make your way towards me, not goodbye as you have to go. That's just a little bit about me.
Marlen Komar (Ugly People Beautiful Hearts)
Our prism can become our prison
Lois Farfel Stark (The Telling Image: Shapes of Changing Times)
express all of that through “a very humble prism and format.” He is always inspired by
Emmanuel Laroche (Conversations Behind the Kitchen Door: 50 American Chefs Chart Today's Food Culture)
Sophie had to force herself to breathe slower to keep her head from getting woozy. “I’m sure I speak for everyone,” Keefe grunted, “when I say: Are we there yet?” “Almost,” Tiergan promised. “Everyone dig deep—and don’t look down.” “Steaming sasquatch poop—that’s a long way to fall!” Keefe announced. Fitz moved closer to Sophie, his new cologne tickling her nose as he whispered, “I almost forgot. I brought you a present.” Her heart skipped at least five beats when he slipped an orange velvet satchel into her palm. He’d been bringing her lots of tiny gifts lately—and she’d been trying hard not to read too much into it. “Ugh, anyone else ready to vomit from the Fitzphie?” Keefe asked. “I am,” Dex said, as Linh asked, “Did Fitzphie become an actual thing?” “I don’t even know what ‘Fitzphie’ is supposed to mean,” Tiergan noted. “Want me to explain it?” Tam offered. “No,” Sophie said, opening the satchel and pulling out a fist-size crystal prism. It was heavy like a paperweight, and when she held it up to the light, rainbow sparkles flashed across her fingers, highlighting words carved across the base, along with the Foxfire seal. Alvar Soren Vacker “That’s called a Radiant,” Fitz explained. “It’s the highest honor any prodigy can receive when they complete the basic levels at Foxfire. Alvar was so disgustingly smug about earning one that he told my mom she should keep it on the mantel in our main sitting room, so it could inspire Biana and me to work harder.” “Ugh, I forgot about that,” Biana grumbled. “I can’t believe Mom did it.” “I know. So I think it’s time to destroy it. And considering where we are, maybe it’d be fun to let it take a really nasty fall.” “Gotta give you credit,” Tam told Fitz. “That’s pretty much a perfect gift.” It was. Though Sophie felt bad taking it. “Shouldn’t you or Biana do the honors?” “Nope. Alvar was there when they took your parents,” Biana argued. “And when you were kidnapped.” “Just throw it extra hard, for us,” Fitz added. Sophie glanced at Dex. “Alvar helped kidnap you, too.” “So boost your throw with the Sucker Punch I made you,” he suggested. They seemed pretty sure, so Sophie gathered whatever mental energy she could muster and channeled it into her arm muscles. A burst of force from the Sucker Punch gave her throw extra oomph as she hurled the Radiant down the center of the curving stairs, where none of the bodyguards would be standing. A satisfying
Shannon Messenger (Nightfall (Keeper of the Lost Cities, #6))
Life and its offerings are a Divine Trust. Everything that we think belongs to us does not. The selfhood labels of “I” and “me” and “mine” are ephemeral and can engender spiritual opacity. By giving and sharing we live by the Trust. By withholding and amassing we live outside of the Trust and diminish “ourselves”. Knowledge based on the Truth must inspire humbleness, humility and gratitude. That which inspires arrogance is ignorance, caused by the heart’s blindness.  Any pretensions of self-sufficiency on the part of man are false, any arrogance is misguided, and any existence outside of God’s Will is an illusion: Have you ever considered that [seed] which you emit? Is it you who create it—or are We the source of its creation?[352]
Saeed Malik (A Perspective on the Signs of Al-Quran: Through the prism of the heart)
Pure love, can be observed similar to white light flowing through a prism bringing forth its seven primary colours, like a rainbow. To deeply know and be love, like the rainbow colours, you have to experience all of its parts to become all of it. - Denis J
Denis John George (The ‘3-3-3’ Enigma: An Invitation To Consciously Create Your Reality)
Well, didn't you look sharp with your boots when you met me on the path? From two-tone to downtown Beirut but only halfway back Stealing bits of wisdom from the shelf Turned prisons into prisms of the self And what do they know about the springtime or me and you? Born in the midst of the long hot summer we lived through Did they see you run for every rhyme? Did we run for running out of time? When even heroes have to die No one lives forever, love, no one's wise to try We're adding our own wisdom to the shelf Stealing bits of paper, we had help But working away, did we miss the passing of the time? In your own flame you can wither though your passions still outshine Did you read the writing on the wall? Prophesying doom upon us all But even heroes have to die No one lives forever, love, no one's wise to try But hidden in the writing on the wall Many are the beauties of the fall
Ted Leo
Poetry is a particular, precious, pleasant and pregnant prism . Its three-dimensional shape has triplets of emotions, imaginations and imagery. If we cut through it, we would probably see ourselves and the same twins of therapy and esthetics on either side.
Ndaba Sibanda (THE TURNS OF FATE THAT ONLY MAKE US STRONGER)
We encounter ideas through the prism of our own lived experience and because of this a good argument can be made that we best understand big ideas when they’re presented through the same personal prism.
Anaik Alcasas (Sending Signals: Amplify the Reach, Resonance and Results of Your Ideas)
Our perceptions of others are but fractured reflections, distorted by the prism of our connections with them.
Sayem Sarkar
(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL ingots rainbow facets Inna hash table, forges prefixes, suffixes, and finds randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, LOTR, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given the five pointed star binds the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme. "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all...”-LOTR. Given that the one ring was forged from one too many golden ingots, it was forseen that Sauron's deception poisoned all the land and covered it in a sickened darkness for the one ring that finds them, and one ring that binds them, for they were all deceived...I before E except after C.
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL ingots rainbow facets Inna hash table, forges prefixes, suffixes, and finds randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, LOTR, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given the five pointed star binds the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme. "Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all...”-LOTR. Given that the one ring was forged from one too many golden ingots, it was forseen that Sauron's deception poisoned all the land and covered it in a sickened darkness for the one ring that finds them and one ring that binds them, for they were all deceived...I before E except after C.
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL forsees rainbow facets in hash tables, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts randomized glob objects in the standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The five pointed star gives out the Model View Projection Matrix vertices, and halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
(PuzzleBoxGPL) Inventor, Jonathan Roy McKinney >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 2, 6, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “PuzzleBoxGPL forsees rainbow facets Inna hash table, and gets prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts randomized objects Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain, given that the five pointed star encapsulates the hexagon Inna Model View Projection Matrix, it halves the coins Inna three-dimensional P2P hashing scheme
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
*>PGEMSIX< GPL >Unique 1< >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Abstracter 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “>PGEMSIX< GPL forsees rainbow facets in randomized hash tables, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, SNES'S Secret Of Mana, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The five pointed star forgoes Model View Projection Matrices, and halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
<> >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the model view projection matrix, and binds coins Inna two-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
>Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches, and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the model view projection matrix, binds, and halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
*PO >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the Model View Projection Matrix, binds or halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.
Joanthan Roy McKinney
*PO GPL >Diadem Ring Circlet 8, 6, 1< >Mana Pi Sphere Abstracter 14, 8, 2< >Golden Items 5, 3< >Hexagonal Prism 9, 5< “Paisbox randomizer finds Rainbow Facets Inna hash table, prefixes, suffixes, searches and sorts globs Inna standard normal distribution, inspired by Blizzard Entertainment’s Diablo, Secret Of Mana on Super Nintendo, Altered Carbon, B2B/B2C Business Intelligence, Knowledge Management, and Blockchain. The Five pointed star forges the Model View Projection Matrix, binds or halves coins Inna 3-dimensional P2P hashing scheme.
Jonathan Roy Mckinney
Beauty lies between you and you and eye and eye Do not compare beauty, For it resides in all, Try if you will, But a slave to the mind you shall be. To compare a dandelion to a lily, And to say the lily is of greater beauty Is a sin we often see. The dandelion is everywhere to be seen, But it is not picked from the ground on a whim. A weed, it was labeled in those grown-up minds, Minds, which have been weeded through time. The same minds which cut lilies from the ground, And stare as they wonder ‘how sad that beauty dwindles down’. They let their thoughts haunt them, And get trapped in the world around them. The truth masked as lies of the eyes. The dandelion and lily, When left to be, Dance in the wind with such beauty, Free. Compare beauty and you'll eclipse your sun's light, And because you only know the stars That come to life when they die, You'll have to wait for the dandelion to fly, Specking light in your darkened mind's eye. Explain beauty and you'll stay for eternity, Trying to capture infinity. Only then will you look into the stilling river, And cry from the open wounds you hide. Bandaging your reflection, you try. Only when it drowns in the murky crinkling water, Do you realize That the stars won't offer the same blinding light, And the darkness has given you sight. Your comparisons’ prism lives only in your eyes, But it travels down your stem, Like a Serpent, Coiling around your breath, With your tongue, Sharper than the air of death, Shedding words you've been fed. Like the grey, Settling deep within your Soul, And the shade, That makes you feel whole. Perhaps you'll try to save the mirrored water, But as you thrash about in infinity, Do not break stems anymore. Instead cut the chains keeping you shackled to the shore. Still, as you roam free, Do not forget to remember, (Infinity said while knocking at eternity’s door) A rigid mind leads to a life lived hollow, But do dip into the mind’s eye knowingly, For the strongest light casts the darkest shadow.
Tavisha Sh (Dancing On The Line Of Insanity)
The human mind is a product of nature. Resembling other forms of nature, does it follow an ancient code by adhering to universal rules of structure, time, and rhythm? Does the human mind establish through training and education its own pulse, tempo, pace, and lilt? Does reading allow us to witness the rhythm, beat, and intonation of other people’s minds? Does writing allow us to develop, monitor, and train the pulsating pulse of our own surfing mental cadence? Does reading enable us to see the groundswell of our own life refracted through a prism of other people’s storm of words? Does reading depict the upsurge of images and thoughts of a working mind, which casement frames humankind? Does writing spur us to scrutinize the indistinct pictures taken by the viewfinder submerged in our own minds? Does inspired writing draw out of us what composed material binders the structures of our multi-dimensional mind?
Kilroy J. Oldster (Dead Toad Scrolls)