Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. I was better after I had cried, than before--more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle.
Yeah, equal pay for equal work and our bodies ourselves and Gloria Steinem and all that jazz...but in that dusty dark little corner of every woman's heart where we keep our maps of Tierra del Fuego lives the hunger to fetch a powerful man his slipper...
Only the redeeming, all-powerful, transforming grace of God can raise our sin-besotted heart from the dead, give us eternal life, and set our gaze on Jesus, our blessed hope.
Miss her a little? God, was she daft? He was going to miss her more than a little. No, he wasn't. He leaped to his feet and practically ran to the door. He wasn't going to miss her at all. He was going to find her and bring her home.
Her father, indulgent in his concern, had opened his library to her, and at last she could read to her heart's content. In all, these past few weeks had been some of the most peaceable of her life. She had the sense of existing inside a fragile pause...
We are unknown to ourselves, we men of knowledge - and with good reason. We have never sought ourselves - how could it happen that we should ever find ourselves? It has rightly been said: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also"; our t...
I am bundled in the warmth of the price and the purchase, and its solid completion, as in royal robes-- marvelous these royal robes! These robes are authority that can decree that trouble, sin of my heart, and the deceptive obstruction of will and re...
While the consequences are often quite hellish, I am absolutely and perhaps permanently against ignoring books recommended from the heart by very nice people and strangers; it is too risky and inhuman; also the consequences are often painful in a fai...
As Abby finally turned and fled the frigid temperatures of the roof, she realized she still didn’t know if the Fallen were good or evil. Whether they intended to kill the humans or not. All she knew was that, at the tender age of thirteen, Abby Rho...
Part of her wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be okay. But the rest of her just wanted to throw him to the ground and rip those jeans off him. Funny how she could be so jealous of a pair of pants. They covered the sinfully ma...
...the truth of the matter is that we've all got cracks in our spirits, and we have to remember they're only there because we need them.... Otherwise, how could God's grace filter in deep enough to give us the joy and peace we're all searching for in...
Read sometimes for the story, Bobby. Don't be like the book-snobs who won't do that. Read sometimes for the words - the language. Don't be like the play-it-safers that won't do that. But when you find a book that has both good story and good words, t...
The most important part of religion isn't in any church. It's down in your own heart. Religion is in your thoughts, and in the way you act from day to day, in the way you treat other people. It's honesty, and unselfishness, and kindness. Especially k...
Go back?" he thought. "No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!" So up he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pit...
Sometimes I think there's a beast that lives inside me, in the cavern that's where my heart should be, and every now and then it fills every last inch of my skin, so that I can't help but do something inappropriate. Its breath is full of lies; it sme...
I felt a splinter of guilt wedge into my heart. Charlotte had hurt me; in return, I'd hurt Rob. Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late we've wounded the people we're trying to protect.
Loving her forever couldn’t be wrong. Not when seeing her made his breath catch or his heart stop. Not when hope demanded they make it one more day together. No one compared to her, and he couldn’t bear to lose her again.
It was like an allegorical picture of war; the trainload of fresh men gliding proudly up the line, the maimed men sliding slowly down, and all the while the guns on the open trucks making one’s heart leap as guns always do, and reviving that pernic...
Resentment is the act of stabbing yourself repeatedly in the heart with a knife, hoping the other person dies.
To commit myself to do the whole will of God; to be able to invite God to look into my heart and to know that He will find there no opposition to His will, nothing but deep love and a real desire to serve Him--this is what it means to be a sanctified...
Next you will cry about taxation without representation, and throw a basket of tea into the harbor. You are indeed a very Jacobin at heart, and I think I must give up trying to cure you of it; I can but wash my hands and deny responsibility
