To help all created things, that is the measure of all our responsibility; to be helped by all, that is the measure of our hope.
Gerald VannAbout author
- Author's profession: Theologian
- Nationality: british
- Born: August 24, 1906
- Died: July 14, 1963
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We sleep to time's hurdy-gurdy; we wake, if ever we wake, to the silence of God. And then, when we wake to the deep shores of time uncreated, then when the dazzling dark breaks over the far slopes of time, then it's time to toss things, like our reason, and our will; then it's time to break our necks for home. There are no events but thoughts and the heart's hard turning, the heart's slow learning where to love and whom. The rest is merely gossip, and tales for other times.
Annie Dillard
Ronnie:" I guess I'm okay with that. But it's not going to be easy for you. They don't have a lot of fishing or mudding around here. Will:" I figured."Ronnie" And not a lot of beach volleyball, either. Especially in January."Will" I guess I'll have to make some sacrifices."Ronnie."Maybe if you're lucky, we can find you some other ways to occupy Your time.
Nicholas Sparks
I believe that it is irresponsible, it is basically part of the crisis of leadership in D.C. to not look at Social Security and understand that there has got to be a solution posed. We've got to take a look at it and make sure that we create a solution so our seniors aren't left out in the cold.
Joe Miller
The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell. For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life, and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed, and appear infinite, and holy whereas it now appears finite & corrupt.
William Blake
Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Charles Dickens