Bertrand Russell Quotes

Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky. Let a second generation full of courage issue forth; let a people loving freedom come to growth.

The past is lying in flames. The future will rise from the flames within our hearts.

The birthday of a new world is at hand.

We will burn the old grass and the new will grow.

Spring drew on... and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that hope traversed them at night and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.

It felt like a new day.

There must be a new world if there is to be any world at all!... These days of universal death must be days of universal new birth, if the ruin is not to be total and final! It is Time to make the dullest man consider; and ask himself, Whence he came? Whither he is bound?

As if in the other side of his kiss there could ve a new life

In order to rise From its own ashes A phoenix First Must Burn.

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O, wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

The phoenix must burn to emerge.

Set fire to the broken pieces; start anew.

Fire is a symbol for so much. It's a symbol for change. It's a symbol for destruction. Out of the ashes of that comes an opportunity to start over. It's one of the greatest metaphors in nature that you can possibly lean on, especially as a songwriter. You're trying to describe either something coming to a complete and utter end or something that is in flux, or something that's on the verge of becoming something else.

Maybe it's better like this, better that everything should go up in a blaze of dry grass and that people should begin again.

In my own life, as winters turn into spring, I find it not only hard to cope with mud but also hard to credit the small harbingers of larger life to come, hard to hope until the outcome is secure. Spring teaches me to look more carefully for the green stems of possibility; for the intuitive hunch that may turn into a larger insight, for the glance or touch that may thaw a frozen relationship, for the stranger's act of kindness that makes the world seem hospitable again.

If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.

Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.

If we wish to make a new world we have the material ready. The first one, too, was made out of chaos.

We carry a new world here, in our hearts. That world is growing this minute.

The storm came. Lives were washed away. Ancient pains resurfaced. Now it is time for a sea of change.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

Quite the opposite. I might fall on my face, but I feel born again.

Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.