Dodjie Guioa Quotes & Sayings

In the face of the oppressed I recognize my own face, and in the hands of the oppressor I recognize my own hands. Their flesh is my flesh, their blood is my blood, their pain is my pain, their smile is my smile. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

from Uppsala, a Swedish city that doesn't interest many people. Even the inhabitants of Uppsala* themselves are embarrassed; the name of their city sounds almost like an excuse. Sweden has the highest suicide rate in the world. — David Foenkinos

I've always thought people would find a lot more pleasure in their routines if they burst into song at significant moments. — John Barrowman

Since the day that our forefather and mother were exiled out of the garden of Eden, we've been lost, trying to get back in, trying to find oneness with each other and the Lord, trying to find communion, our way home. We've been trying to be found. The truth is that without Christ, we are utterly alone, and our attempts to fill our hours with goodies or texting or work or even ministry are simply futile attempts to assure ourselves that things aren't so bad after all. But at the end of the day, in the middle of the night, and at the end of our lives, without the love and work of Jesus Christ, the God-man, we are alone and we know it - and it terrifies us. Every one of us is standing on that darkened stage, condemned, lost and wandering, needing to be found. — Elyse M. Fitzpatrick

In the closed world of the gynaeceum, despite the gardens and parkland extending beyong the horizon, despite the insurmountable walls separating pavillions and palaces, the tangled web of our fate was inescapable. Why did these women love each other to the point of madness? Why did they loathe one another so vehemently, and why did sworn enemies feel such horror and fascination for one another? Why should furious hate become obsession, then intoxication and the very reason to live?
Because love and hate were the two heads of the demon. — Shan Sa

It was a silence so deep, so still, that a man could finally hear the beating of his own heart, the gentle whispers of the soul. — Kamran Pasha