I look at him ready to cry again. Not out of pain. Not out of need. But because his words rub that part of my soul that suffers, that wants to be explored like a virgin land that has remained intact for centuries and craves to be occupied, appreciate...
Now I stand before houses set on our secret trail, the haunt of arrowheads and lost Indians the color of small plums, rooms in which the new boys play, tamed by computers and a summer waste of games, where once, in these woods, we tasted wild fruit.
I'm not dreaming this, am I?" he asked. Dehvi lifted an eyebrow. "There's only one way to know for sure," he said. What's that?" Go piss in the woods. If you feel wet and warm afterward, wake up.
Golf challenges you mentally at any age, and when you become my age, it's a challenge physically to try to make your game work as well as it ever did. That's close to impossible, but that doesn't keep you from trying to hit the ball where you used to...
The inclusiveness of the invitation to be reconciled to God through Christ's work of Atonement- acknowledgement of who He is (God) and what He has done (Redemption)- aligns itself perfectly with the paradigm shift intrinsic to the New Covenant". ~R. ...
Like it! Yes—the way I'd like a hot stove if I was to set on it long enough. No, Tom, I won't be rich, and I won't live in them cussed smothery houses. I like the woods, and the river, and hogsheads, and I'll stick to 'em, too.
The Chasers throw the Quaffle and put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So — that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Har...
There are stories told to him only at this time of year. Fantastic, magical stories, the old Hollier in the woods finding only three red berries, which peel back in the night to reveal gifts of frankincense, gold and myrrh, Christmas in hot deserts, ...
But here was where the question of talent became slippery, for who could say whether Spirit-in-the-Woods had ever pulled incipient talent out of a kid and activated it, or whether the talent had been there all along and would have come out even witho...
There were moments in life, Marion thought, when you reached back, baton in hand, feeling the runner behind you. Felt the clasp of their fingers resonating through the wood, the release of your hand, which then flew forward, empty, into the space ahe...
The synoptic Gospels of the New Testament manuscripts make us aware of Christ's character and gives us a view of the 'son-ship' He modeled which flowed out of that Divine character." ~R. Alan Woods [2013]
And, yes we are much like kites when the image is one of spirituality and the winds of the Holy Spirit shaping, directing, instructing, and otherwise affecting our lives." ~R. Alan Woods [2012]
I have been fairly misunderstood by those who think only of the heart and thereby leave the mind behind. They both are vital and important aspects of our created humanity...in the image of God". ~R. Alan Woods {2006]
The 'words' of Augustine, Origen, Clement of Alexandria, St. John of Damascus, St. Thomas Aquinas, et al, may not have carried the weight of Canon, however they were neither paper-like nor mere 'pellets'." ~R. Alan Woods [2012]
Of all the languages that have existed upon the Earth, the Hebrew language is unique and extraordinary in its ability to paint vivid pictures with words that lodge within the heart conveying deep and profound Truth". ~R. Alan Woods [2012]
In the 56 years I have been a disciple of and in union with Jesus Christ and in my opinion, John Wimber was the most authentic, humble, accessible, and anointed 'Christ-like' man I have ever known." ~R. Alan Woods [2013]
All the same, I don't mean nothin' you wouldn't like yer mas to know about, see? That's straight, that is. It's Art, and that makes all the difference. *When it ain't Art it's dirt, but if it's Art it's all right, see?*
That's the kind of death that frightens me. The shadow of death slowly, slowly eats away at the region of life, and before you know it everything's dark and you can't see, and the people around you think of you as more dead than alive.
I’m not totally mad at you. I’m just sad. You’re all locked up in that little world of yours, and when I try knocking on the door, you just sort of look up for a second and go right back inside.
I run through the woods, at once applauding myself for my wit-" "Well deserved, sir. Well deserved." "And at the self instant, I am grinding my teeth because I am a vain, revenging idiot and shall be run down because of it.
You shine like the sun and you move like water. Your eyes are the perfect mix of gray and brown, like fog in the woods, and you smell like lilacs in the summer. I think if you laughed, it would sound like music.
