Quotes
Quotes about Sin
Tell me to whom you are addressing yourself when you say that.
I am addressing myself--I am addressing myself to my cap.
Thus we never live, but we hope to live; and always disposing ourselves to be happy, it is inevitable that we never become so.
Isocrates was in the right to insinuate, in his elegant Greek expression, that what is got over the Devil's back is spent under his belly.
Two souls with but a single thought,
Two hearts that beat as one.
Sinew of war.
Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women.
I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.
While I was musing the fire burned.
They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters.
My son, if sinners entice thee, consent thou not.
Fools make a mock at sin.
The lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.
Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean men.
Drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.
For, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land.
Like the best wine,... that goeth down sweetly, causing the lips of those that are asleep to speak.
The wages of sin is death.
As having nothing, and yet possessing all things.
Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath.
Charity shall cover the multitude of sins.
Have mercy upon us miserable sinners.
"Arms, and the man I sing, who forc'ed by Fate, And haughty Juno's unrelenting Hate; Expell'ed and exil'd, left the Trojan Shoar: Long Labours, both by Sea and Land he bore; And in the doubtful War, before he won, the Latian realm, and built the destin'd Town: His banish'd gods restor'd to Rites Divine, and setl'd sure Succession in his line: From Whence the Race of Alban Fathers come, and the long Glories of Majestick Rome."
"But, Rome, 'tis alone, with awful sway, to rule Mankind; and make the world obey; Disposing peace, and War, thy own Majestick Way. To tame the Proud, the fetter'd Slave to free; These are Imperial Arts, and worthy thee." -Anchises to Aeneas in the Underworld
Literature, as cities grow, becomes increasingly an expression of loneliness and exile - a cry in the dark, whistling in the dark.
Its paperback version is a poor but necessary thing, a concession to the pocket, the sickly child of the original. Book can be taken as an acronym standing for Box of the Organized Knowledge. The book called a novel is a box from which characters and events are waiting to emerge at the raising of the lid. It is a solidity, a paperback is a ghost.
