Quotes About Witness

I'm convinced from what I know of Vernon Bundy that his testimony was truthful.

God wants to change us so much that it intrigues others.

It is natural for me to ignore autograph seekers, but God wants me to share my testimony card with them and be loving. That power and initiative comes from him.

What the feminists want of me is something they haven't examined because it comes from religion. They want me to bear witness.

I believe a human being - if he or she wants to remain human, then he or she must do something with what we have seen, endured, witnessed.

The historian, now witness, stumbling in the illusion that he will survive. Long enough to set the details down on parchment in the frail belief that truth is a worthwhile cause. That the tale will become a lesson heeded. Frail belief? Outright lie, a delusion of the worst sort. The lesson of history is that no one learns.

Even the gods felt close, drawn to witness all that was to come. Witness, or to seize the moment and act directly. A nudge here, a tug there, if only to appease their egos… if only to see what happens.

Understand: we exist for the sole purpose of being witness to existence. This and this alone is our collective contribution to all that has been created. We serve to bring existence into being. Without eyes to see, nothing exists.

Witness? Yes, you are witness. Even so, what I, Karsa Orlong, shall shape, you cannot imagine. No one can.

The night draws to an end, the dream dims in the pale silver of awakening. Kruppe ceases, weary beyond reason. Sweat drips down the length of his ratty beard, his latest affectation. A bard sits, head bowed, and in a short time he will say thank you. But for now he must remain silent, and as for the other things he would say, they are between him and Kruppe and none other. Fisher sits, head bowed. While an Elder God weeps. The tale is spun. Spun out. Dance by limb, dance by word. Witness!

When curses collide, you might say. Flaws and virtues, the many faces of fateful obsession, of singular purpose. Powers and wills are drawn together, as if one must by nature seek the annihilation of the other. Thus, you and Icarium are now here, and we are moments from a dreadful convergence, and it is my fate to witness. Helpless unto desperate madness. Fortunately for my own sake, I have known this feeling before.

But compassion was engagement, a mindfulness beyond that of mere witness

The Holy Scriptures, by bearing witness to the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of God, create in man by the Holy Ghost a faith which justifies him.1 —J.H. Merle d

Servants, drawn to witness the procession, bowed as they passed as if they were blades of grass and the sight of the royal woman was a scythe passing over the field.

This was a court of men; no women were present to witness the judgment of Shemyaza, seducer of all women.

Paul's claim to apostleship was that he had seen the risen Christ (1 Cor. 9:1). His calling had come directly from Christ, not from men nor through man (Gal. 1:1). He was commissioned as an ambassador of Christ (2 Cor. 5:20).

Let this be our time in history so that someday we can tell our children and grandchildren that we were there, that we changed the course of history for the better.

Being here to witness the beauty, to learn, to be astonished, to love - is enough. Being able to create in addition is a delightful honour.

I believe he died this way on purpose. I believe he wanted no chilling moments, no one to witness his last breath and be haunted by it, the way he had been haunted by his mother's death-notice telegram or by his father's corpse in the city morgue.

night, in a moment of grace, we witnessed something otherworldly. It was after midnight. As I slept, I felt a sensation through my closed lids, as if someone had turned on the lights. I heard a gasp, and I opened my eyes to witness an utterly amazing sight. The entire sea was aglow.

The uncritical civilization bears witness to its own decline in accepting myths as fact while dismissing facts as myth.

You are the witness, on-the-scene, microphone in hand. You stand on the road to everywhere, askng, What is this? What next?

I have never found a better metaphor for my relationship with the Eternal: a point lost in infinite space, wrapped round by the night under the subdued light of the stars. I am this point lost in space: the darkness, like an irreplaceable friend, is faith. The stars, Gods witness.

I would have preferred someone else to have been in charge of rescuing this story, but once again life has taught me that my role is to be a witness, not the leading actor.