Quotes About Judgment

The self-assured believer is a greater sinner in the eyes of God than the troubled disbeliever.

In eternity it will be asked whether you may not have damaged a good thing, in order that you also might judge with them that did not know how to judge, but who possessed the crowd's strength, which in the temporal sense is significant, but to which eternity is wholly indifferent.

The slaves of paltriness, the frogs in life's swamp, will naturally cry out, "Such a love is foolishness. The rich brewer's widow is a match fully as good and respectable." Let them croak.

On principle' a man can do anything, take part in anything and himself remain inhuman and indeterminate. 'On principle' a man may interest himself in the founding of a brothel, and the same man can 'on principle' assist in the publication of a new Hymn book because it is supposed to be the great need of the times. But it would be as unjustifiable to conclude from the first fact that he was debauched as it would, perhaps, be to conclude from the second that he read or sang hymns.

Of a man who only wills the Good out of fear of punishment, it is necessary to say with special emphasis, that he fears what a man should not and ought not to fear: loss of money, loss of reputation, misjudgment by others, neglect, the world's judgment, the ridicule of fools, the laughter of the frivolous, the cowardly whining of consideration, the inflated triviality of the moment, the fluttering mist-forms of vapor.

Nosotros los seres humanos tenemos un temor natural a equivocarnos cuando nos formamos una opinión demasiado buena acerca de un ser humano. En cambio, no tememos quizá al error cuando pensamos mal de otro ser humano...

To be a man, to live here in this world, is to be put on trial

Si quien va a obrar pretende juzgarse antes a sí mismo por el resultado, no comenzará nunca.

It's not like I got caught masturbating, for chrissake; she doesn't know me, why the hell would she care if I'm superstitious? - Karen

You may find this hard to believe, Mr. Pinter, she went on defensively, but some men enjoy my company. They consider me easy to talk to. A ghost of a smile touched his handsome face. You're right. I do find that hard to believe. Arrogant wretch. -Jackson and Celia

I put it to you, Doctor, that our gods are what good and bad once were before they became categories un human reasoning.

Many complain of their looks, few of their brains.

You can't judge an internal injury by the size of the hole.

Nobody can judge an internal injury by the size of the superficial wound.

Life is lived forward but is judged in reverse.

Nobody can judge an internal injury, he had said, by the size of the superficial wound, of the hole.

Impossible stories, stories with No Entry signs on them, change our lives, and our minds, as often as the authorized versions, the stories we are expected to trust, upon which we are asked, or told, to build our judgements, and our lives.

Women have always moaned about men...but it turns out that their deepest complaints are reserved for one another, because while they expect men to be fickle, treacherous, and weak, they judge their own sex by higher standards, they expect more from their own sex--loyalty, understanding, trustworthiness, love....

one man long as a life and thin as a lie, a second who seems to lack a spine, and a third whose lower lip juts, whose belly tends to squashiness, whose hair is thinning and greasy and worming over the tops of his ears, and between whose eyebrows is the tell-tale furrow that will, as he ages, deepen into the scar of a bitter, angry man.

they all were, in the grip of a huge fantasy: the idea that men would not be judged by who they once were and what they had once done, if they only decided to be different. They wanted to step away from the responsibilities of history and be free.

But now, discontinuity ruled. Yesterday meant nothing and could not help you build tomorrow. Life had become a series of vanishing photographs, posted every day, gone the next. One had no story anymore. Character, narrative, history, were all dead. Only the flat caricature of the instant remained, and that was what one was judged by. To have lived long enough to witness the replacement of the depth of her chosen world's culture by its surfaces was a sad thing.

Beware, the light seemed to say, for I come to burn and judge.

Oh, alas, alas for his debauched children, flesh of his flesh, heir to all his failings and none of his strenghts!... was it hard to judge a ten-year-old boy in this way? Yes, of course it was, but these were not boys. They were little gods, the despots of the future: born, unfortunately, to rule. He loved them. They would betray him. They were the lights of his life. They would come for him while he slept. The little assfuckers. He was waiting for their moves.

You see, captain,  here is the truth of the business: some persons are better, others are less.  But it may be nice for you to think otherwise.