#forgiven

Because I have forgiven my past, and God has forgiven my past, no person can make me denounce my past. It made me who I am today, and the choices I make from this moment on are what will ultimately define me. ↗

— Julie-Anne

#forgiveness #god #past #forgiveness

Even if God forgives you, you do not forgive yourself. You live in your sorrow like a room of mirrors that reflects on and on to eternity. ↗

— Rebecca Johns

#forgiveness

But if you seek forgiveness, doesn't that automatically mean you cannot be a monster? By definition, doesn't that desperation make you human again? ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#revenge #forgiveness

O Lord! he concluded, forgive all these trespasses. Lead me not into Penn Station. ↗

— Saul Bellow

#forgiveness

Nobility is not only in forgiveness. ↗

— Dejan Stojanovic

#dejan-stojanovic #forgivness #literature #literature-quotes #nobility

If truth doesn't set you free, generosity of spirit will. ↗

— Katerina Stoykova Klemer

#forgiveness #freedom #generosity #relationships #spirituality

Forgiveness is really just another word for freedom. ↗

— Julie Lessman

#freedom #forgiveness

I have told the story I was asked to tell. I have closed it, as so many stories close, with a joining of two people. What is one man's and one woman's love and desire, against the history of two worlds, the great revolutions of our lifetimes, the hope, the unending cruelty of our species? A little thing. But a key is a little thing, next to the door it opens. If you lose the key, the door may never be unlocked. It is in our bodies that we lose or begin our freedom, in our bodies that we accept or end our slavery. So I wrote this book for my friend, with whom I have lived and will die free. ↗

— Ursula K. Le Guin

#love #slavery #forgiveness

Happiness There's just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet having squandered a fortune far away. And how can you not forgive? You make a feast in honor of what was lost, and take from its place the finest garment, which you saved for an occasion you could not imagine, and you weep night and day to know that you were not abandoned, that happiness saved its most extreme form for you alone. No, happiness is the uncle you never knew about, who flies a single-engine plane onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes into town, and inquires at every door until he finds you asleep midafternoon as you so often are during the unmerciful hours of your despair. It comes to the monk in his cell. It comes to the woman sweeping the street with a birch broom, to the child whose mother has passed out from drink. It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing a sock, to the pusher, to the basket maker, and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots in the night. It even comes to the boulder in the perpetual shade of pine barrens, to rain falling on the open sea, to the wineglass, weary of holding wine. ↗

— Jane Kenyon

#jane #kenyon #forgiveness

Sometimes a person can say I’m sorry a thousand times and that glue will never dry. ↗

— Stephanie Kallos

#forgiveness