Quotes About Saint

Passion should meet your professional life, and I'm a living, breathing testament to that.

A saint is not a virtuous soul, but an empty one. He—or she—freely gives the gift of their will to their god. And in renouncing action, makes action possible.

Beloved, god-touched, great-souled… a saint, even?  The true sort, who moved through the world as silently as fishes, unnoticed by carnal eyes that focused only on outward domination and display.  Never on a small woman in a small town, being kind.  Soul by soul.

Beloved, god-touched, great-souled… a saint, even?  The true sort, who moved through the world as silently as fishes, unnoticed by carnal eyes that focused only on outward domination and display.  Never on a small woman in a small town, being kind.  Soul by soul. And

I'm not jealous, dear, do your best, only don't make a saint of him. I'm afraid I couldn't like him without a spice of human naughtiness.

Kannon, with her thousand arms and eleven heads, who could hear the voices of things crying out. I said I could totally relate to that, and when she told us that Kannon was the Buddhist saint of compassion

Nelson Mandela was a man of incomparable honor, unconquerable strength, and unyielding resolve---a saint to many, a hero to all who treasure liberty, freedom and the dignity of humankind.

The test of the life of a saint is not success, but faithfulness in human life as it actually is.

SAINT, n. A dead sinner revised and edited.

Look in, and see Christ's chosen saint In triumph wear his Christ-like chain; No fear lest he should swerve or faint; "His life is Christ, his death is gain.

God's training ground, where the missionary weapons are found, is the hidden, personal, worshiping life of the saint.

For fuck's sake, Jared. There's a difference between giving your power willingly and having power ripped from you. Did Chuck the fucking sasquatch tell you that? They don't like to be called sasquatches. You would drive a saint to murder.

Ich am of IrlondeAnt of the holy landeOf Irlonde.Gode sire, pray ich the,For of saynte charite,Come ant dance wyth meIn Irlonde.

Saint Patrick was a gentleman, who through strategy and stealth Drove all the snakes from Ireland, here's a drink to his health! But not too many drinks, lest we lose ourselves and then Forget the good Saint Patrick, and see them snakes again!

Yet, unless he sets up as a saint, he need not hate himself for them. He is better employed, as it humbly seems to me, in giving thanks that power to resist was vouchsafed to him, than in fretting over wicked impulses which come unsought and extort an unwilling hospitality from the weakness of our nature.

Perhaps Aquinas's notably soft line on gluttony may have had something to do with the fact that the saint was said to have had what today we might call a weight problem.

At the end of the eighteenth century, the three Orders of Saint Francis numbered a hundred and fifteen thousand friars and twenty-eight thousand nuns. Four popes, forty-five cardinals, and forty-six canonized martyrs were enrolled on their record, besides about two thousand more who had shed their blood for the faith. Their missions embraced nearly all the known world; and, in 1621, there were in Spanish America alone five hundred Franciscan convents.

There was a man so wise, He jumped into A sandy place And burnt out both his eyes! And when he knew his eyes were gone, He offered no complaint. He summoned up a vision And made himself a saint. -Children's Verse from History of Muad'dib

He was warrior and mystic, ogre and saint, the fox and the innocent, chivalrous, ruthless, less than a god, more than a man.

He was warrior and mystic, ogre and saint, the fox and the innocent, chivalrous, ruthless, less than a god, more than a man. There is no measuring Muad'Dib's motives by ordinary standards. In the moment of his triumph, he saw the death prepared for him, yet he accepted the treachery.

Miho. You're an angel. You're a saint. You're a blessing from above. You're Mother Theresa. You're God.

The only real sadness, the only real failure, the only great tragedy in life, is not to become a saint."7 As

For a man who makes his salvation perfect through suffering, is more of a saint and a loving hero of nature.

I have no fear of God, and yet fear keeps me awake at night,fear of the devil. And if I believe in the devil, I must believe in God. And if evil is abhorrent to me, I must be a saint. Henry, save me from beatification, from the horrors of static perfection. Precipitate me into the inferno.