Burgstahler 2009 Quotes & Sayings

Human suffering has been caused because too many of us cannot grasp that words are only tools for our use.
The mere presence in the dictionary of a word like 'living' does not mean it necessarily has to refer to something definite in the real world. — Richard Dawkins

God also gave Theologians, Biblical scholars, and Christian authors to mature the Saints and to promote the cause of Christ and God's Kingdom".

~R. Alan Woods [2012] — R. Alan Woods

Conservatism and passive acceptance...They can't think for themselves.Anything that's too complicated sends their heads reeling.Makes me want to puke. — Koushun Takami

There is little doubt that we are in the midst of a revolution of a much more profound and fundamental nature than the social and political revolutions of the last half century. — Arthur Erickson

The other day I went to a movie with some friends, and they were like, 'Let's look it up on the Internet and see what people are saying,' and I was like, 'Man, that's messed up.' — Nikki Sixx

I still have very close ties to Houston and the Astros because that was my first team. — Joe Morgan

Man has learned to cope with all questions of importance without recourse to God as a working hypothesis. — Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Swarmers run the risk of skittering like water bugs on the surface of life. By being quickly and constantly connected, they can avoid deep contact in time-consuming and meaningful ways ... You're flitting from one place to another. You're more likely to pursue superficial engagements rather than deep pursuits. It contributes to this certain MTV approach to life where you engage in something for a few minutes and then there's a commercial ... You have to get a grip on reality. Unless you know what is real-what is a real friendship and relationship-neither can have an effect on you. — Joel Garreau

They're mean bastards, those monks," I said. I was supposed to deliver a weekly cartload of firewood to Saint Rumwold's, but that was a duty I ignored. The monks could cut their own timber. "Who was Rumwold?" I asked Willibald. I knew the answer, but wanted to drag Willibald through the thorns. "He was a very pious child, lord," he said. "A child?" "A baby," he said, sighing as he saw where the conversation was leading, "a mere three days old when he died." "A three-day-old baby is a saint?" Willibald flapped his hands. "Miracles happen, lord," he said, "they really do. They say little Rumwold sang God's praises whenever he suckled." "I feel much the same when I get hold of a tit," I said, "so does that make me a saint?" Willibald shuddered, then sensibly changed the subject. — Bernard Cornwell