Quakeds Quotes & Sayings

Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips
the
choice is mine.
I am death or life. I am salvation or destruction. Angel or demon.
I am grace.
I plunge in the knife.
This is my sacrifice
I am the monster. — Bree Despain

The artist does not really create; he discovers. — Lyman Abbott

After the disintegration of Christendom-a historical apparatus that gave cultural pride of place to Christianity-Christian truth claims cannot be taken for granted or simply asserted using logical apologetics. Rather, the truth of the faith appears to stand or fall based on its goodness, as shown in the lives of those who claim it. — Tyler Wigg-Stevenson

Dewey didn't create it. Nathan did. Mr. Green repurposed — Kevin Lee Swaim

There were several things to chew on, but of course the main one was Bingham's alternatives. If he had known Carol Mardus as well as he said he did there were just four candidates. Even if he had killed her himself, he would name the ones she would have been most likely to pick if she hadn't picked him, so it was highly probable that it was one of those four. I stood at a window, and sat at my desk, and stood some more, going over them. Which one? That's the silliest game of solitaire there is, and we all play it, trying to tag a murderer as one of a bunch from what they said and how they looked and acted, unless you can spot something that really opens a crack. I couldn't. — Rex Stout

Obsessions are nine tenths of my flaws. — Atticus

God can't drive a parked car. — Joyce Meyer

Art is by nature optimistic. Art is optimistic because it is alive. — Patti Smith

Most of the Jewish writer friends I have are American, and I feel closer to them because they're always obsessed with one issue - identity: what does it mean to be an American Jew? — Etgar Keret

Relax, Recharge,
Renew, Restored. — Lailah Gifty Akita

The easiest thing to feel is sadness. — Justin Vernon

Now we wake up with our memory
and fix our gazes on that which was;
whispering sweetness, which once coursed through us,
sits silently beside us with loosened hair — Rainer Maria Rilke