Father And Daughter Poems Or Quotes & Sayings

The recurring theme of all religions is a sympathy, empathy, connection, capacity between the human and the divine - that we were made for union with one another. They might express this through different rituals, doctrines, dogmas, or beliefs, but at the higher levels they're talking about the same goal. And the goal is always union with the divine. — Richard Rohr

Me mum always told me the rich was blessed, but I thought she was talkin' about gold." She leaned over to cackle in his ear, then actually patted him on the head as if he was some slavering lapdog. "You might have escaped the gallows, lad, but you was already well hung. — Teresa Medeiros

That man could take a visitation from God with thirty underdressed angels announcing that sex was okay after all and make it seem vaguely depressing. — James S.A. Corey

Coming into your powers can be a very confusing time. Perhaps there is a book on the subject. If you like, we can go see Marian.
Yeah, right. Choices and Changes. A Modern Girl's Guide to Casting. My Mom Wants to Kill Me: A Self-Help Book For Teens. — Kami Garcia

I have committed myself to joy. I have come to realize that those who make space for joy, those who prefer nothing to joy, those who desire the utter reality, will most assuredly have it. We must not be afraid to announce it to refugees, slum dwellers, saddened prisoners, angry prophets. Now and then we must even announce it to ourselves. In this prison of now, in this cynical and sophisticated age, someone must believe in joy. — Richard Rohr

Cordone, delighted with himself for swindling the gullible Indians out of a fortune in pearls, stood at the railing of his ship smiling down at the pursuers. He was about to order his soldiers to fire upon the Indians when he was struck in the chest by an arrow. He dropped to the deck. — W.C. Jameson

I read that the body remakes itself every seven years. Every cell. Even the bones rebuild themselves like coral. Why then do we remember what should be long gone? What's the point of every scar and humiliation? What is the point of remembering the good times when they are gone? I love you. I miss you. You are dead. — Jeanette Winterson

But no temple made with hands can compare with Yosemite. Every rock in its walls seems to glow with life ... as if into this one mountain mansion Nature had gathered her choicest treasures ... — John Muir

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit-
man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees
with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images,
I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of
your enumerations! — Allen Ginsberg