The man who does nothing cuts the same sordid figure in the pages of history, whether he be a cynic, or fop, or voluptuary. There is little use for the being whose tepid soul knows nothing of great and generous emotion, of the high pride, the stern belief, the lofty enthusiasm, of the men who quell the storm and ride the thunder.
Theodore RooseveltRelated topics
cynic great high history men man nothing pride quell ride soul storm thunder use cutsRelated quotes
Holy Tradition is neither a tradition of men, nor a philosophy, nor some kind of trickery, but is the word of God that He delivered to us personally. The great Apostle Paul teaches and exhorts us to keep with vigour the traditions, saving; "Therefore, brethren, stand fast, and hold the traditions which ye have been taught, whether by word, or our epistle."
Cleopa Ilie
It is not only the soul that is sanctified and communicates with God, but also the human body through the communion of the Body and Blood of Christ becomes united with the entire Holy Trinity. By the grace of God and with the participation of his own will and effort, man becomes a new creature, a partaker in the eternal Kingdom of God.
John of Shanghai and San Francisco
God is nearer to us than any man at every time. He is nearer to me than my raiment, nearer than the air or light, nearer than my wife, father, mother, daughter, son, or friend. I live in Him, soul and body. I breathe in Him, think in Him, feel, consider, intend, speak, undertake, work in Him.
John of Kronstadt
Did we not know this world to be but a place of trial - our bitter probation for another and for a better - how strange in its severity would seem the lot of genius in a woman. The keen feeling - the generous enthusiasm - the lofty aspiration - and the delicate perception - are given but to make the possessor unfitted for her actual position.
Letitia Elizabeth Landon
She had a need to feel the thunder,
To chase the lightning from the sky,
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover's eyes.
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright,
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been,
Burning both ends of the night.
Garth Brooks