No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #o
Those who deny guilt and sin are like the Pharisees of old who thought our Saviour had a “guilt complex” because He accused them of being whited sepulchers—outside clean, inside full of dead men’s bones. Those who admit that they are guilty are like the public sinners and the publicans of whom Our Lord said, “Amen, I say to you, that the publicans and the harlots shall go into the Kingdom of God before you” (Matt. 21:31). Those who think they are healthy but have a hidden moral cancer are incurable; the sick who want to be healed have a chance. All denial of guilt keeps people out of the area of love and, by inducing self-righteousness, prevents a cure. The two facts of healing in the physical order are these: A physician cannot heal us unless we put ourselves into his hands, and we will not put ourselves into his hands unless we know that we are sick. In like manner, a sinner’s awareness of sin is one requisite for his recovery; the other is his longing for God. When we long for God, we do so not as sinners, but as lovers. ↗
Polly ended her lesson with the words she lived by: man is tender by nature, the rest is invented. Everyone applauded, even Bernice who was relieved that it was finally over. ↗
Before I could reply, he had picked me up, literally swept me off my feet, and kissed me. And afterwards, when I tried to speak, he silenced me in much the same manner. It was a shock (but not at all distasteful) to be so caught up. Later - when he at last set me down - he handled me more gently. He took of my glasses and told me that he loved me. ↗
#gentle #heart-breaking #jane-austen #jennifer-paynter #love
Who will marry me? No one wants a girl who is not a virgin." "I will. I'll marry you." "Ma non posso sposarti." "And why can't you marry me?" "Perché sei pazzo!" "And why am I crazy?" "Perché vuoi sposarmi." "Because I want to marry you. Carina, ti amo," he explained, and he drew her gently back down to the pillow. "Te amo molto." "Tu sei pazzo," she murmured in reply, flattered. "Perché?" "Because you say you love me. How can you love a girl who is not a virgin?" "Because I can't marry you." She bolted right up again in a threatening rage. "Why can't you marry me?" she demanded, ready to clout him again if he gave an uncomplimentary reply. "Just because I am not a virgin?" "No, no darling. Because you're crazy. ↗
#love
ROSAURA Soy de Estrella una infelice dama. SEGISMUNDO No digas tal; di el sol, a cuya llama aquella estrella vive, pues de tus rayos resplandor recibe. Yo vi en reino de olores que presidía entre comunes flores la deidad de la rosa; y era su emperatriz por más hermosa. Yo vi entre piedras finas de la docta academia de sus minas preferir el diamante, y ser su emperador por más brillante. Yo en esas cortes bellas de la inquieta república de estrellas vi en el lugar primero por rey de las estrellas el lucero. Yo en esferas perfectas, llamando el sol a cortes los planetas, le vi que presidía como mayor oráculo del día. Pues ¿cómo, si entre flores, entre estrellas, piedras, signos, planetas, las más bellas prefieren, tú has servido la de menos beldad, habiendo sido por más bella y hermosa, sol, lucero, diamante, estrella y rosa? ↗
#love
Apparently our portmanteau is trending on Twitter." He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I didn't even know what a portmanteau was before Jukebox Hero. It's a mashup of our names, like Brangelina or Robsten. No idea what ours is -- what do our names make?" He considered this a for a moment before shaking his head. "It's probably awful," he decided. "Could be worse, though; I hear the portmanteau for the main characters in The Hunger Games is... well, their names are Peeta and Katniss. I'll let you guys figure that one out on your own. ↗
He pulled back, but only enough to lock his eyes onto mine as he held my face in his hands. “It will always be you, Cassandra,” he whispered against my lips. Then he kissed me again, much softer this time, as if gently transferring every ounce of love he had for me onto my lips. I didn’t need any words, this was all I ever needed to know that he loved me. Everything around me faded. All my worries, all my fears disappeared when he touched me. We weren’t stuck in this Hell, we weren’t even in its realm. We were in our own world, no one around to save, or to slay. God, if only we could stay here. I didn’t want to face reality, not when I had him here with me now, not after thinking I’d lost him. ↗
In contradistinction to the underestimation in the field of rocket science and the aerospace industry, Parsons' accomplishments in the arcane sciences have been highly overrated and grossly exaggerated. As a magician he was essentially a failure. As a Thelemite he learned the hard way what was required. He loved Crowley's 'Law' but couldn't adhere to it—though he tried harder than most. He violated the rules, undertook unauthorized and unorthodox magical operations, and claimed the grade of Magister Templi without first completing all the grades below it. He couldn't handle working under authority—his ego was too big. His record of failure is valuable in that regard. He was a great promulgator of thelemic ideals in his essays, but as an idealist his elitism ruined his work. Indeed, some would say he was guilt of hubris, which the gods always punish. ↗
¡En esta vida no la supe amar! Dame otra vida para reparar, ¡oh Dios! mis omisiones, para amarla con tantos corazones como tuve en mis cuerpos anteriores, para colmar de flores, de risas y de gloria sus instantes; para cuajar su pecho de diamantes y en la red de sus labios dejar presos los enjambres de besos que no le di en las horas ya perdidas... Si es cierto que vivimos muchas vidas Conforme a la creencia teosófica, Señor, otra existencia de limosna te pido para quererla más que la he querido, paran que en ella nuestras alamas sean tan una, que las gentes que nos vean en éxtasis perenne ir hacia Dios, digan: ¡Como se quieren esos dos! A la vez que nosotros murmuramos con un instinto lúcido y profundo (mientras que nos besamos como locos): ¡Quizás ya nos amamos con este mismo amor en otro mundo! ↗
E sì, mi manca ancora. Per quanto incomprensibile possa essere, sento ancora la sua mancanza. La sento soprattutto in questo tipo di situazione, quando esco, quando mi siedo in un ristorante con qualcuno, quando viene un po’ di sole dopo che ha piovuto, quando la gente intorno parla del più e del meno, quando la normalità incalza. E’ soprattutto in quei momenti che mi domando cosa ci faccio lì. Perché rimango. Perché non me ne vado. E perché quello che mangio non sa di niente. E perché delle cose che mi dicono gli amici, cose per le quali dovrei provare un qualche interesse, non m’importi assolutamente nulla. E risponda per pura cortesia, sperando che se la bevano e pensando che se pure non se la bevono fa lo stesso. E perché quando mi sembra di cominciare a rilassarmi, finalmente, vengo subito assalito dal solito stormo di piccoli ricordi felici che vuole portarmi via da dove sto. E perché mi sembra di aver lasciato la vita da qualche parte. Ma dove? Fanculo, va’. ↗
