Quotes About Grace

The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go. With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go. Watch the heat of the day pass into the cool night. Let go. When the past has passed from you at last, let go. Then climb down and begin the rest of your life. With great joy.

And no, this story does not end with her winning any championship medals. It doesn't have to. In fact, this story does not end at all, because Susan is still figure skating several mornings a week—simply because skating is still the best way for her to unfold a certain beauty and transcendence within her life that she cannot seem to access in any other manner.

It should have been unbearable to face this sorry inventory, yet for some reason it was not.

Because God never slams a door in your face without opening a box of Girl Scout cookies (or however the old adage goes), some wonderful things did happen to me in the shadow of all that sorrow.

I soon noticed that there was nothing haphazard about her clothing; it was all in keeping with a particular style that I might call "Little Lord Fauntleroy meets French salon hostess.

Dear Lord, please show me everything I need to understand about forgiveness and surrender.

What is the scent of water? Renewal. The goodness of God coming down like dew.

I]f you believe in God omnipresent, then you must believe everything that comes into your life, person or event, must have something of God in it to be experienced and loved; not hated.

There always comes, I think, a sort of peak in suffering at which either you win over your pain or your pain wins over you, according as to whether you can, or cannot, call up that extra ounce of endurance that helps you to break through the circle of yourself and do the hitherto impossible. That extra ounce carries you through 'le dernier quart d' heure.' Psychologist have a name for it, I believe. Christians call it the Grace of God.

Good Lord, His Grace the Ass hiding in the bushes," Apollo muttered. "Whatever are you doing here?" "Ah, Kilbourne, you've regained your voice," Wakefield drawled. "Pity, but I presume my wife is thrilled. And you are?" He looked pointedly at Montgomery.

He inhaled and spoke without thinking, ignoring their audience. "What has happened?" "You know full well, Your Grace, for what—who—I fight." Her eyes were glittering and he couldn't believe it, but the evidence was clear. Tears. His goddess should never weep. He took her arm. "Artemis.

Then he dived back into the storage compartment and came back up with a hamper containing a small bottle of milk for the tea, a basket of peeled hard-boiled eggs, ham sliced so thin it was nearly transparent, crumbling sharp cheese, crusty bread, a cold raspberry tart, and several crisp apples, all served on China plates.

I felt sure…that these creatures were never threatened by the grimness of history, either.

When—notice that I do not say if, being granted almost as much stubbornness as you, by Gird's grace—when you find that you can swear your honor to Gird's fellowship, it will be my pleasure to give and receive your strokes. Is that satisfactory, or have you more conditions for a Marshal-General of Gird, and Captain-Temporal of the High Lord? Paks

The quietness spread, from gray eyes that held no hatred for those who spat at her face or tasted her blood, from a voice that could scream in pain yet mouth no curses after, that spoke, between screams, in a steady confirmation of all good. Those

spend the rest of his life nobly forgiving her. Nothing can be more infuriating than being forgiven over and over again.

I think our job--maybe even our 'duty'--is to--To bear the burden of the mystery with as much grace as we can.

But down from the end of the path it looked so charming that she wished she could paint it in watercolours—the great trees, the tempered sunlight, the glimpse of the old church at one end, the glimpse of the embosomed lake at the other, and in the middle, set out so neatly, with such a grace of spotlessness, the table of her first tea-party.

True she was old, true she was unbeautiful, true she therefore had no reason to smile, but kind ladies smiled, reason or no. They smiled not because they were happy but because they wished to make happy.

Penso che un peccatore debba peccare con allegria, oppure non peccare affatto. [...] E' ben misero chi pecca dispiacendosene.

I do sincerely trust that the benediction that is always awaiting me in my garden may by degrees be more deserved, and that I may grow in grace, and patience, and cheerfulness, just like the happy flowers I so much love.

They were just cups of acceptance.

Those years in the back diningroom, like some dark tunnel through which one emerges into sunshine, had ended for her in glory. All the time she had been so miserable, she had really been heading straight for this. She was awestruck. Such great and unexpected blessings should bring forth fruit, she vowed, and she would show her gratitude by seeing to it that they did.

It makes one very humble to see oneself surrounded by such a wealth of beauty and perfection anonymously lavished, and to think of the infinite meanness of our own grudging charities, and how displeased we are if they are not promptly and properly appreciated. I do sincerely trust that the benediction that is always awaiting me in my garden may by degrees be more deserved, and that I may grow in grace, and patience, and cheerfulness, just like the happy flowers I so much love.