Weyler Obituary Quotes & Sayings

Are you Colt?" he muttered, coming to stand in front of me.
"Yeah."
"I want an hour."
"Two-fifty now, two-fifty later, — Shaye Evans

I had zero fear of Mack being the wrong kind of guy to invite up to my room. He totally didn't come off as rapist material. Me, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about. — Elle Casey

I've read so many stories online about how tragedy brings people together, how hard times encourage bravery and sacrifice, how a crisis can turn ordinary folks into heroes. But what about the opposite, when something horrible happens and it strips us bare, exposing weaknesses we didn't even know we had. What about when tragedy makes people worse? — Paula Stokes

War's a game, which, were their subjects wise, Kings would not play at. — William Cowper

His ordeal has stripped away every bit of himself and leaves him feeling completely exposed to his Enemy. He has no way to know when the next full-scale attack will come, only that it will and that he cannot hide or protect himself from it.
Yet even in Frodo's darkness, with the fiery Ring as the only illumination he senses, there is still deep union between him and God. Evil continually forces its way into the hobbit's soul, but God is already there to strengthen him in his struggle to keep the demonic power from overwhelming him completely. As Frodo burns upon the kindled wheel, he becomes a candle set alight by both Light and Dark, a figure 'clothed in flame' (LOTR, 890), as Sam saw by the red light in the Tower chamber. The combination of this torment, God's love for him, and his own love for his world consume him in 'a holy sacrifice, truly pleasing to God' (Rom. 12:1). — Anne Marie Gazzolo

Imagine a cell in your body, then your body relative to the planet. Imagine the planet in the solar system, our solar system in the universe. Now imagine that our universe is to something greater what a cell in our body is to our universe. There is so much that we cannot comprehend. — Aaron B. Powell

We're a rough people, born of oak, as they say, here in the western land; tempers run high, weapons are always at hand. — Ursula K. Le Guin