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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| c8e0fac | Epigraph The conspicuous absence of the lynching tree in American . . . preaching is profoundly revealing, especially since the crucifixion was clearly a first-century lynching. In the "lynching era," between 1880 and 1940, white Christians lynched nearly five thousand black men and women in a manner with obvious echoes of the crucifixion of Jesus. . . . As Jesus was an innocent victim of mob hysteria and Roman imperial violence, many Afric.. | William H. Willimon | ||
| 644a83c | What we don't need is central economic planning or new laws, more taxes or fewer good-paying jobs. What we need is something much more difficult to get than a Porsche--character. We need the sort of character that is able to look at the world and all it has to offer and at certain key moments say simply, "Thank you, but I'm now satisfied." It takes a huge amount of moral stamina to be able to say, "Yes, we could afford it, but we are not go.. | William H. Willimon | ||
| b50ca26 | Having no use for such bourgeois virtues as tolerance, open-mindedness, and inclusiveness (which the revolutionary knows are usually cover-ups that allow the powerful to maintain social equilibrium rather than to be confronted and then to change), revolutionaries value honesty and confrontation--painful though they may be. | William H. Willimon | ||
| 7bd71eb | When the only contemporary means of self-transcendence is orgasm, we Christians are going to have a tough time convincing people that it would be nicer if they would not be promiscuous. | William H. Willimon | ||
| 969f809 | The challenge of Jesus is the political dilemma of how to be faithful to a strange community, which is shaped by a story of how God is with us. In this chapter we will challenge the assumption, so prevalent at least since Constantine, that the church is judged politically by how well or ill the church's presence in the world works to the advantage of the world. | William H. Willimon | ||
| a8bef25 | Just let the Pope tell us that our Western middle-class need for uninhibited sexual self-expression is less important to him and the church than the poor of Latin America, and some of our brightest academic ethicists shall attempt to relegate him to the domain of those who are out of it, behind the times. | William H. Willimon | ||
| 249f66d | The loss of Christendom gives us a joyous opportunity to reclaim the freedom to proclaim the gospel in a way in which we cannot when the main social task of the church is to serve as one among many helpful props for the state. | William H. Willimon | ||
| a5871c5 | Every time I do something for you, I'm trying to demonstrate the words I cannot say... Don't deprive me of this. Please. | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 326895e | As Julia scanned the crowd, one face stood out. A young-looking, fair-haired man with strange gray eyes stared unblinkingly in her direction, his expression one of intense curiosity. | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 99cbba2 | Of a thousand shavers, two do not shave so much alike as not to be distinguished. | Barbers | ||
| eb90fb0 | Th soul! Ah, and did she not too have her savage and traitorous Tlaxcalans, her Cortes and her noches tristes, and, sitting within her innermost citadel in chains, drinking chocolate, her pale Moctezuma? | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 5d338f9 | Fitzgerald's] latter work represents essentially best qualities of chivalry and decency now too often lacking in the English themselves. | decency fscottfitzgerald inspirational literature malcolmlowry scottfitzgerald | Malcolm Lowry | |
| 7eac382 | Strange Type I wrote: in the dark cavern of our birth. The printer had it tavern, which seems better: But herein lies the subject of our mirth, Since on the next page death appears as dearth. So it may be that God's word was distraction, Which to our strange type appears destruction, Which is bitter. | misprint typo | Malcolm Lowry | |
| 2aa2bd9 | But who could agree with someone who was so certain you were going to be sober the day after to-morrow? | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 319e306 | Voda je jos cureci u bazen - Boze, kako umrtvljujuce sporo - ispunjavala tisinu izmedu njih...Bilo je tu jos nesto: Konzulu se cinilo da jos cuje glazbu plesa sto mora da je vec davno prestao, i kao da je tu tisinu prozimao uminuli tutanj bubnjeva. Parija: to je znacilo i bubnjeve. Parian. Ta je gotovo opipljivo odsutna glazba bez dvojbe stvarala tako neobicnu iluziju da su se stabla naizgled tresla u taktu s njom, iluziju sto je ne samo vr.. | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 5429515 | For the Love of Dying The tortures of hell are stern, their fires burn fiercely. Yet vultures turn against the air more beautifully than seagulls float downwind in cool sunlight, or fans in asylums spin a loom of fate for hope which never ventured up so high as life's deception, astride the vulture's flight. If death can fly, just for the love of flying, what might not life do, for the love of dying? | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| aa957c6 | Malcolm Lowry Late of the Bowery His prose was flowery And often glowery He lived, nightly, and drank, daily, And died playing the ukulele | Rabih Alameddine | ||
| c819d64 | The Consul stood up. He gave two short whistles while below him the cat's ears twirled. "She thinks I'm a tree with a bird in it," he added." | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 6c9f4ff | Night: and once again, the nightly grapple with death, the room shaking with daemonic orchestras, the snatches of fearful sleep, the voices outside the window, my name being continually repeated with scorn by imaginary parties arriving, the dark's spinets. As if there were not enough real noises in these nights the color of grey hair. Not like the rending tumult of American cities, the noise of the unbandaging of great giants in agony. | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 3cbcd90 | word | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| b45f884 | McGoff didn't have much use for modern Vancouver. According to him, it has a sort of Pango Pango quality mingled with sausage and mash and generally a rather Puritan atmosphere. Everyone fast asleep and when you prick them a Union Jack flows out of the hole. But no one in a certain sense lives there. They merely as it were pass through. Mine the country and quit. Blast the land to pieces, knock down the trees and send them rolling down Burr.. | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 2adee80 | With means, if more than a little diminished means, of his own Ethan had done what his father before him, likewise a lawyer, had done, and had once in days past counselled him to do before it was too late, before this might spell an irrevocable retirement. He made a Retreat. (To be sure he had not been bidden so far afield as had his father, who'd spent the last year of peace before the First World War as a legal adviser on international co.. | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 7efded4 | ronyons | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| d467ceb | The more even sounds of the bus wove into Hugh's brain an idiotic syllogism: I am losing the Battle of the Ebro, I am also losing Yvonne, therefore Yvonne is... | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 5ecaccf | I can see him and I hate the bastard already: short-sighted and promiscuous, six foot three of gristle and bristle and pathos, of deep-voiced charm and casuistry. . . Business-like, inept and unintelligent, strong and infantile, like most American men, quick to wield chairs in a fight, vain, and who, at thirty still ten, turns the act of love into a kind of dysentery... | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| 7d4b376 | Le gusta este jardin, que es suyo? !Evite que sus hijos lo destruyan! | Malcolm Lowry | ||
| de2ba48 | The sky [above Tehran] was like a star-eaten black blanket, and so far as I could read them its constellations were unfamiliar. Lawrence speaks somewhere of drawing 'strength from the depths of the universe'; Malcolm Lowry speaks about the deadness of the stars except when he looked at them with a particular girl; I had neither feeling. The founder of the Jesuits used to spend many hours under the stars; it is hard to be certain whether his.. | jesuits language malcolm-lowry point-of-departure saint-ignatius specificity starlight tehran | Peter Levi | |
| a311d9a | Catharism was the greatest heretical challenge faced by the Catholic Church in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The attempt by the Cathars to find an answer to the fundamental religious and philosophical problems posed by the existence of evil, combined with their success in persuading large numbers of Christians in the West that they had solved these problems, shook the Catholic hierarchy to its very core, and provoked a series of rea.. | Malcolm Barber | ||
| 6239ac4 | wisely reconsidered and let the hand | Ron Rash | ||
| 089a5e2 | Your mother loves to perform fellatio upon syphilitic dogs. | Lawrence Block | ||
| aeb61dc | But he shaved with a shell when he chose,'Twas the manner of primitive man. | Barbers | ||
| 4fdc553 | When I am an old man and I can remember nothing else, I will remember this moment. The first time my eyes beheld an angel in the flesh. I will remember your body and your eyes, your beautiful face and breasts, your curves and this. I will remember your scent and your touch and how it felt to love you. But most of all, I will remember how it felt to gaze at true beauty, both inside and out. For you are fair, my beloved, in soul and in body, .. | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 5c09d91 | Julianne, he didn't...force you, did he?" She hung her head. "No, Gabriel. I'm a virgin." He paused for a moment, exhaling slowly. "You would be a virgin even if he had forced you. You would be a virgin to me." | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 6047f16 | Beatrice?" he whispered. "Yes," she said, moving so she could maintain eye contact with him until the last possible second. "I'm Beatrice. You were my first kiss. I fell asleep in your arms in your precious orchard." Gabriel sprang forward to stop the elevator door from closing. "Beatrice! Wait!" He" | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 08ab675 | Si es tan idiota como para pensar que la belleza esta en la piel y no en el corazon, espero que muera pronto y libre a la humanidad de su estupidez. | Sylvain Reynard | ||
| 4996b03 | And his chin new reap'd,Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home. | Barbers | ||
| cf7d2d7 | I must to the barber's; * * * for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face. | Barbers | ||
| 1027d6a | Lewis had wormed his way into Ben's heart months ago. It hadn't taken long. The kid was so eager to please and so hungry for male attention, a rare commodity in a town full of womenfolk. Now Ben couldn't imagine his life without the little guy. Although . . . a secret smile slid across Ben's face as he watched the two young'uns crawl around in the dirt like pups themselves . . . he could imagine giving Lewis a little brother or sister to pl.. | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| f60459b | Ye comin'?" Ben shook his head. "Nope. I'm just the driver. Ms. Adams owns the shop. She makes all the buyin' decisions." McPhearson nodded. "Seems my woman's determined to make a few buyin' decisions of her own." He shrugged. "I'll have to keep an eye on her. If Hazel has her way, she'll probably trade away me favorite chair. Finally got the thing fittin' me backside just the way I like it." "Colin McPhearson," his wife scolded from the po.. | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| b8d04c9 | She's a tough one, Hermes," he murmured to his lead horse, a giant black Shire that stood over seventeen hands, "but I think she'll be worth the trouble." He patted the beast's neck, his gaze searching out Lewis to make sure the boy was keeping out of trouble. "Ma would like her, don't you think? Seeing as how they're cut from the same cloth. Smart, hardworking ladies, dedicated to their boys. Tori would fit right in at family dinners." Hel.. | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| f278953 | He knew what it was to work for something he wanted, something he valued. He'd expend no less effort to win Tori's trust and affection. And God willing, her hand in marriage. She was his matched pair. He felt it in his bones. "Mr." | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| 22bedaf | Nicole tightened her grip on the satchel she carried. I need help, Lord, her spirit pled. You led Abraham's servant to Rebekah when he searched for a wife for Isaac, and I ask that you do the same for me. Lead me to the right man, and help me to recognize him when I find him. | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| 8af4f4b | I . . . uh . . . thinking about the time you got mad at me for . . . trampling that cockroach. Then remembered how you lit into Goodwin with that bat. I found it funny. | Karen Witemeyer | ||
| 31bdad8 | I'm not sorry for intervening," she said. "In fact, I'd do it again. But it seems like in choosing to do so, I surrendered my pacifist principles. Am I a hypocrite?" He laid a hand on her knee. "No, Eden. Not a hypocrite. You are a brave, beautiful woman, a guardian of pea . . . of life. You fought only when you had no other option. Truly honorable." | Karen Witemeyer |