The fortune-teller never knows his own.
A turtle is not proud of his long neck.
A dead man's will is the mirror of his life.
No one is a good judge of his own case.
A bad workman quarrels with his tools.
A fool is not afraid to lose his mind.
The miser is his own mother-in-law.
Don't help the elephant to carry his tusks.
They asked the mule who his father was.
The devil looks after his own.
Everyone admires his own character.
A flatterer must not lose his temper.
This is the real world, and only a believer walking in fellowship with His Creator and Redeemer can understand it. Everyone else is the world is experiencing a 'break with reality'.
He had to keep busy; he had to keep moving so that the sinews connected behind his eyes did not slip loose and spin his eyes to the interior of his skull where the scenes waited for him.
When a man does not dwell in self, then things will of themselves reveal their forms to him. His movement is like that of water, his stillness like that of a mirror, his responses like those of an echo.
Who should I send for now?” Using the last of his strength, Sebastian managed to drag her hand up to his mouth. “You,” he whispered, holding her fingers to his lips. “Just you.
He pries me from his chest and drops his hand from the back of my head, tracing my ear, along my jawline. He snatches his fingers a moment before they press into my lip.
For what seemed a long time Mat knelt there with his father's dead wrist in his hand, while his mind arrived and arrived and yet arrived at that place and time and that body lying still on the soiled and bloodied stones.
If we knew what we are, we should do as Sir Arthur Jermyn did; and Arthur Jermyn soaked himself in oil and set first to his clothing one night.
I can see his pain, see it in the way he runs his fingers through his hair, over and over, and I understand what it costs him to hide it all.
God's love for his people is so great that it turns God against himself, his love against his justice.
