“Well, then,” he said. “Let’s do it.” “What?” Vin asked. “Save the world.” Elend said. “Stop the ash.”

The purpose of fasting is to loosen to some degree the ties which bind us to the world of material things and our surroundings as a whole, in order that we may concentrate all our spiritual powers upon the unseen and eternal things.

The more helpless you are, the better you are fitted to pray, and the more answers to prayer you will experience.

Prayer is a condition of mind, an attitude of heart, which God recognizes as prayer whether it manifests itself in quiet thinking, in sighing or in audible words.

It is the will of our heavenly Father that we should come to Him freely and confidently and make known our desires to Him, just as we would have our children come freely and of their own accord and speak to us about the things they would like to have.

The quiet hour of prayer is one of the most favorable opportunities

The Spirit of prayer makes us so intimate with God that we scarcely pass through an experience before we speak to Him about it, either in supplication, in sighing, in pouring out our woes before Him, in fervent requests, or in thanksgiving and adoration.

Prayer is a fine, delicate instrument. To use it right is a great art, a holy art. There is perhaps no greater art than the art of prayer. Yet the least gifted, the uneducated and the poor can cultivate the holy art of prayer.

Prayer is the risen Jesus coming in with His resurrection power, given free rein in our lives, and then using His authority to enter any situation and change things.

One of the very best ways to keep in touch with your own ups and downs is to keep track of what activities energize you and which drain you – on a regular basis.

Art has to keep moving and discovering to stay alive.

When it’s time to shuffle off this mortal coil, you leave your ashes to be composted.

When passion is mutual, there is always the danger of the fire burning to ashes.

I have learned that you’re not perfect, and that sometimes the one you love can burn you. But it’s just the fool that’s looking backwards: a bitter heart turns the love we made to ashes.

Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few, And soon the grassy coverlet of God Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.

My pen is alight and my body aflame. Until both burn down to ash, my love and my hate will remain here in the world.

I had learned one of the bitter lessons of life: never try to regain the past, the fire will have become ashes.

Leaders should lead as far as they can and then vanish. Their ashes should not choke the fire they have lit.

A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare to the jeweled vision of a life started anew.