His mercy is so great that it forgives great sins to great sinners after great lengths of time and then gives great favors and great privileges and raises us up to great enjoyments in the great heaven of the great God!
We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes. But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn, a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive his poured-out life, and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him, may then pour oursel...
I am no longer sure of anything. If I satiate my desires, I sin but I deliver myself from them; if I refuse to satisfy them, they infect the whole soul.
Sometimes I feel like a Buddhist and I need to chant; sometimes a Baptist and I need to holler and shout; and sometimes I need to be a Catholic and need to purge my sins and confess. It just depends on where I am.
Nothing is so much calculated to lead people to forsake sin as to take them by the hand and to watch over them in tenderness. When persons manifest the least kindness and love to me, O what pow'r it has over my mind.
Christianity has from its beginning portrayed itself as a gospel of peace, a way of reconciliation (with God, with other creatures), and a new model of human community, offering the 'peace which passes understanding' to a world enmeshed in sin and vi...
Even the highest forms of sacrificial worship present much that is repulsive to modern ideas, and in particular it requires an effort to reconcile our imagination to the bloody ritual which is prominent in almost every religion which has a strong sen...
Cardinal Lamberto: Your sins are terrible. It is just that you suffer. Your life could be redeemed, but I know you don't believe that. You will not change. [grants Michael the Rite of Absolution]
Louise Pendrake: Well, Jack. Now you know. This is a house of ill fame. And I'm a fallen flower. This life is not only wicked and sinful. It isn't even any fun.
Priest: ...ask yourself if that corpse of a slut is worth dying for. Marv: Worth dying for. [shoots priest] Marv: Worth killing for. [shoots him again] Marv: Worth going to hell for. [shoots him again] Marv: Amen.
[first lines] The Salesman: [voiceover] She shivers in the wind like the last leaf on a dying tree. I let her hear my footsteps. She only goes stiff for a moment.
[Marv's last line, blood pouring from his mouth, after the first shock from the electric chair] Marv: Is that the best you can do, you pansies? [They shock him again]
Marv: Wait a second. Why'd she call you Wendy? Wendy: Because that's my name, you ape. Goldie was my sister. My twin sister. Marv: I guess she was the nice one.
Jack Rafferty: You want to see it? You wanna see what I got? Becky: I've seen all shapes, all sizes. Jack Rafferty: [pulls gun] You seen this one? Get in the car.
Priest #2: [Before Marv's execution] Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death... Marv: Would you get a move on already? I haven't got all night.
Becky: Sure, there's money. Sure, you can move my mom into Old Town, and let her know that her daughter's a goddamn whore. Schutz: [sarcastically] Breaks your heart, doesn't it?
I have no right, by anything I do or say, to demean a human being in his own eyes. What matters is not what I think of him; it is what he thinks of himself. To undermine a man's self-respect is a sin.
Now I am near to the getting of my crown, which shall be sure; for I bless the Lord, and desire all of you to bless Him that He hath brought me here, and makes me triumph over devils, and men, and sin: they shall wound me no more.
Behold, I am become a reproach to thy holy name, by serving any ambition and the sins of others; which though I did by the persuasion of other men, yet my own conscience did cheek and upbraid me in it.
In truth, to know oneself seems to be the hardest of all things. Not only our eye, which observes external objects, does not use the sense of sight upon itself, but even our mind, which contemplates intently another's sin, is slow in the recognition ...
Does there, I wonder, exist a being who has read all, or approximately all, that the person of average culture is supposed to have read, and that not to have read is a social sin? If such a being does exist, surely he is an old, a very old man.
