Mary Center Quotes & Sayings

Suddenly, and for the first time, he was at the center of his own life, living it and loving it. — Mary Balogh

Mary lived in the divine Eucharist, the center of her love. All her thoughts, words, and actions sprang from It like the rays from the sun. The Eucharist was the oracle which she consulted, the grace which she followed. But Jesus Christ in His Sacrament lives the same life of love which consumed Him in His mortal days. In His sacramental state He continues to adore His Father by His depthless self-abasement. He is still the Mediator and Interceder with divine goodness for the salvation of men — Peter Julian Eymard

As I said, I don't expect you to understand - "
"And I don't," he cut in. "Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman's noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband's coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse."
Her hand flashed out before she'd thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.
Silence had her eyes locked with Michael's, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.
Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.
He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. "Don't take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m'love. — Elizabeth Hoyt

The 1993 Trade Center bombing was obviously frightening. It could have been much worse than it was. — Mary Jo White

Sometimes you have to recycle celebrities to make them interesting, and they can be even better the second time around. Case in point: the fabulous and talented Miss Joey Heatherton, star of stage, screen, Vegas and mattress commercials. Close your eyes and imagine what it would be like to wake up one day and be Joey Heatherton. On July 8, 1985, it must not have felt so hot. Joey, goddess, was detained in the U.S. passport office at Rockefeller Center for allegedly becoming abusive at not receiving special treatment in the passport line. Supposedly, she threw a tantrum, grabbed passport-office clerk, Mary Polik, tore her hair out and smashed her head against the Formica counter. Oh, well, nobody's perfect. — John Waters

He felt like a man in a small boat under which a huge sea creature has passed, causing the boat to pitch gently. Like a man in a boat, he could chase it or run from it, and he picked chase. If he felt it on her lips, he put his mouth on her lips. If he found it on the palm of her hand, he opened her hand and licked it up. Her soul darted here and there, sensitive as any creature, tipping her center of balance back and forth as it oscillated. She liked this, and if she had any fear, she did not take it seriously. He liked it, too, so much that he could barely concentrate on the chase. — Mary Gaitskill

the center as well. He laid his cards out. A fortress of lords. The governors threw down their cards, unable to beat him. Everyone waited, breathless, for Lia to lay her cards out. She frowned and shook her head. Then looked at me. Blinked. A slow blink as long as a thousand miles. Then back at Malich. A long sigh, contrite. She laid out her cards. Six black wings. A perfect hand. "I think this beats yours, doesn't it, Malich?" Malich — Mary E. Pearson

Ancients pulled metals more precious than gold from the center of the earth - They spun into giant lacy wings that flew them to the stars and back
"Is that what you'd do with wings?"
She shook her head "No, I'd fly to the stars, but I'd never come back — Mary E. Pearson

The Trade Center itself held - and holds - a special place, I think, in the hearts and minds of people in law enforcement - the fact that it did not fall in 1993. Ramzi Yousef's goal was to topple the Twin Towers into each other so that more people died than had died at Hiroshima. — Mary Jo White

We tend to love things that are left of center anyway. — Mary Steenburgen

She always imagined the Father, Son, Holy Spirit, and Blessed Mother as points of light in the center of her heart, and as she prayed, the light expanded, flowing through her body and soul, smoothing away knots of guilt and sorrow and fear until her whole being glowed with harmony. — Mary Jo Putney

A few of the guests, who had the misfortune of being too near the windows, were seized and feasted on at once. When Elizabeth stood, she saw Mrs. Long struggle to free herself as two female dreadfuls bit into her head, cracking her skull like a walnut, and sending a shower of dark blood spouting as high as the chandeliers.
As guests fled in every direction, Mr. Bennet's voice cut through the commotion. "Girls! Pentagram of Death!"
Elizabeth immediately joined her four sisters, Jane, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia in the center of the dance floor. Each girl produced a dagger from her ankle and stood at the tip of an imaginary five-pointed star. From the center of the room, they began stepping outward in unison - each thrusting a razor-sharp dagger with one hand, the other hand modestly tucked into the small of her back. — Seth Grahame-Smith

The M16 has a scope with a small red arrow in the center of the sight. You align the arrow with what or (jeez) whom you wish to shoot and squeeze the trigger. Both "squeeze" and "pull" are exaggerations of the motion applied to this trigger. It's a trivial, tiny movement, the twitch of a dreaming child. So quick and so effortless is it that it's hard for me to associate it with any but the most inconsequential of acts. Flipping a page. Typing an M. Scratching an itch. Ending a life wants a little more muscle. — Mary Roach

I walked up to Griz and poked him in the chest. Let me make this perfectly clear to you. Though some might seek to make it appear otherwise, I am not a bride to be bartered away to another kingdom, not a prize of war, not a mouthpiece for your Komizar. I am not a chip in a card game to be mindlessly tossed into the center of the pot, nor one to be kept in the tight fist of a greedy opponent. I am a player seated at the table alongside everyone else, and from this day forward, I will play my own hand as I see fit. Do you understand me? Because the consequences could be ugly if someone thought otherwise. — Mary E. Pearson

From the complications of loving you i think there is no end or return. no answer, no coming out of it. which is the only way to love, isn't it? this isn't a playground, this is earth, our heaven, for a while. therefore i have given precedence to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods that hold you in the center of my world. and i say to my body: grow thinner still. and i say to my fingers, type me a pretty song. and i say to my heart: rave on. — Mary Oliver

The ancient Greek mathematician Ptolemy was born some time at the end of the first century. Ptolemy based his version of trigonometry on the relationships between the chords of circles and the corresponding central angles of those chords. Ptolemy came up with a theorem involving four-sided figures that you can construct with the chords. In the meantime, mathematicians in India decided to use the measure of half a chord and half the angle to try to figure out these relationships. Drawing a radius from the center of a circle through the middle of a chord (halving it) forms a right angle, which is important in the definitions of the trig functions. These half-measures were the beginning of the sine function in trigonometry. In fact, the word sine actually comes from the Hindu name jiva. — Mary Jane Sterling

I can't remember who said it - I think it was Allan Gurganus when he was visiting the Michener Center - but he told us to "spend [our] gold," meaning, put everything you have into a story. Other "gold" will be waiting for you for your next project. — Mary J. Miller

What did she pass from?" the girl asked. "M.S. Multiple sclerosis." "What's that?" "It's a human disease where the body's immune system attacks the coating that protects your nerve fibers? Without that sheath, you can't tell your body what to do, so you lose the ability to walk, feed yourself, speak. Or at least, my mom did. Some people with it have long periods of remission when the disease isn't active. She wasn't one of them." Mary rubbed the center of her chest. "There are more options for treatment now than there were fifteen or twenty years ago when she was first diagnosed. Maybe she would have lasted longer in this era of medicine. Who knows. — J.R. Ward

What will help you to press forward and continually hold fast to the iron rod? Center your life on the Savior and develop daily habits of righteous living. — Mary N. Cook

Mostly I'm just not American. I spent four years of my childhood here, but I think if you're Canadian you have a very different perspective. You don't think you're at the center of things. — Mary Harron

Why is it we are not constantly awed by the size and majesty of the universe?" "Habit," he said. "We are accustomed to it. I suppose if we had been blind from birth - in both eyes - and could suddenly see, we would be so overwhelmed by a night like this that we would either gaze upward at it until dawn or else cling to the earth, afraid that we were about to fall off. Or perhaps we would simply assume that we were at the center of it all and the lords of all we beheld." The — Mary Balogh

Rachel had a feeling there might have been a story about the procurement of the macarons, but she didn't really listen when Lauren was speaking about anything that didn't involve Jacob. She selected a red one and took a tentative bite. "Oh, God," she moaned a moment later, and thought, for the first time in she didn't know how long, of sex. She took a bigger bite. "Mother Mary." She laughed out loud. No wonder people lined up for them. It was exquisite; the raspberry flavor of the creamy center was like the barest touch of fingertips on her skin, the meringue light and tender, like eating a cloud. — Liane Moriarty

My greatest happiness is to be before the Blessed Sacrament, where my heart is, as it were, in Its center. — Margaret Mary Alacoque

I mean, by such flightiness, something that feels unsatisfied at the center of my life - that makes me shaky, fickle, inquisitive, and hungry. I could call it a longing for home and not be far wrong. Or I could call it a longing for whatever supersedes, if it cannot pass through, understanding. Other words that come to mind: faith, grace, rest. In my outward appearance and life habits I hardly change - there's never been a day that my friends haven't been able to say, and at a distance, "There's Oliver, still standing around in the weeds. There she is, still scribbling in her notebook." But, at the center: I am shaking; I am flashing like tinsel. Restless. I read about ideas. Yet I let them remain ideas. I read about the poet who threw his books away, the better to come to a spiritual completion. Yet I keep my books. I flutter; I am attentive, maybe I even rise a little, balancing; then I fall back. — Mary Oliver

When we think of other people as our center and fulfillment, we live frustrated lives. — Mary E. DeMuth

For Russian Jews, Zionism was an immediate solution to age-old problems.
"Anywhere is better than Russia," Karl agreed, "but for Western Jews, Zionism is a trap, I think. Once Jews are permitted a territorial center, it will be too easy to drive the rest of us from every other nation on Earth. 'Go back where you belong!' " he cried dismissively, jerking his thumb toward Palestine. " 'Oh, by the way, leave all your possessions behind.' "
... But I have no need of some artificial homeland invented by the British. I am not a German Jew, Agnes, but a Jewish German. — Mary Doria Russell

Modern neurosis began with the discoveries of Copernicus. Science made men feel small by showing him that the earth was not the center of the universe. — Mary McCarthy

It is theologically and anthropologically important for woman to be at the center of Christianity. Through Mary, and the other holy women, the feminine element stands at the heart of the Christian religion. — Pope Benedict XVI

I love film sets, but I don't necessarily love being the center of attention. — Mary Stuart Masterson

Red onions are especially divine. I hold a slice up to the sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window, and it glows like a fine piece of antique glass. Cool watery-white with layers delicately edged with imperial purple ... strong, humble, peaceful ... with that fiery nub of spring green in the center ... — Mary Hayes-Grieco