Who is so deaf or so blind as he that willfully will neither hear nor see?
Who is so deaf or so blind as he/ That wilfully will neither hear nor see?
Beware of the front of a bull, the back of a horse and both sides of a blind man.
A blind man sat behind a pile of stones and thought that nobody could see him.
If a blind man says, "Let's throw stones," be assured that he has stepped on one.
Why is being a servant such an important aspect of faith? It’s simple. If you cannot obey and serve someone you can see, will you really be able to obey and serve God whom you cannot?
We were learning what "living on faith" really means, and God was providing for us very much like he provided for the Israelites in the desert - just the basics, just enough, and just in time.
Everyone would like to have stronger faith. By themselves, the scriptures may not strengthen your faith, but being faithful to what they teach, does. In other words, faith cannot be separated from faithfulness.
You have to get off that finite road that you’ve created from your transitional standpoint and onto the path of light. Onto the infinite road of eternal existence, the firm foundation of truth. This is where the crooked becomes straight, the lost g...
Using the scientific knowledge that we currently possess, we can take simple logical steps, backed by the strongest evidence that we have, to come to the best and most reasonable conclusion that God is the cause of everything - all without ever takin...
The little poets sing of little things: Hope, cheer, and faith, small queens and puppet kings; Lovers who kissed and then were made as one, And modest flowers waving in the sun. The mighty poets write in blood and tears And agony that, flame-like, bi...
The modern skeptical world has been taught for some 200 years a conception of human nature in which the reality of evil, so well-known to the age of faith, has been discounted. Almost all of us grew up in an environment of such easy optimism that we ...
Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth.
I fear oblivion. I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark.
More and more I feel like a letter—deposited here, collected there. But a letter addressed to no one.
What would that be like - to long, to yearn for someone who is right there before your eyes, day in and day out?
The pile of stones thus marks both an act of deliberate remembrance, and an act of deliberate forgetting. They're fond of paradox in that region.
Time: old cold time, old sorrow, settling down in layers like silt in a pond.
It wasn't so easy though, ending the war. A war is a huge fire; the ashes from it drift far, and settle slowly.
I don’t feel old. I just feel like someone young who has something wrong with him.
The master who fears the choices his people will make enough to take those choices away isn't worth serving.
