That Jesus of Nazareth died upon a cross is mere matter of history; that He who did so die was the Christ the Son of God is entirely a matter of revelation.
Only boring people get bored. Life may be tedious, but not if you brought a book.
In every marriage more than a week old, there are grounds for divorce. The trick is to find, and continue to find, grounds for marriage.
We reach the point where our profession is also our hobby.
All you’re supposed to do is every once in a while give the boys a little tea and sympathy.
Humans who spend time in the wilderness, alone, without man-made mechanical noise around them, often discover that their brain begins to recover its ability to discern things.
I think an appeal to arms and to brute force is unbecoming the age in which we live. Would to God that the time had come when there should be no war, and that religion and peace should reign throughout the world.
Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivor’s mind toward some resolution which it may never find.
I shall await the first shot, and if you do not batter us to pieces, we shall be starved out in a few days.
Our Southern brethren have done grievously, they have rebelled and have attacked their father’s house and their loyal brothers. They must be punished and brought back, but this necessity breaks my heart.
The Cross was the manifestation of Divine love without reserve or limit; but it was also the expression of man’s unutterable malignity.
A lot of young writers wait for inspiration. The inspiration only hits you at the desk.
For what constitutes a Christian is not; accepting the Christian’s creed, but accepting Christ as Savior and Lord. It is a question of personal loyalty and love.
When a bank makes a loan, it simply adds to the borrower’s deposit account by the amount of the loan. It does not take this money from anyone else’s deposit; it was not previously paid in to the bank by anyone. It’s new money, created by the bank for the use of the borrower.
Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivor’s mind toward some final resolution, some clear meaning, which it perhaps never finds.
Mr. Big-Ass she calls me, if you’ll excuse the expression. And I say, ″Honey, you can’t drive a spike with a tack hammer″.
Maybe everyone was walking around carrying ugly monsters and dark little corners, nightmares and broken pasts.