Quotes About Devotion

Thus, the most complete definition of a commitment is this: falling in love with something and then building a structure of behavior around it for those moments when love falters.

If marriage is about deciding to love on a daily basis, I have woken up to a no-brainer every day since.

You are only willing to surrender open if he is fully present with you, committed to claiming your heart with his absolute integrity of being. And he is only willing to commit his presence with you if you are willing to surrender open and offer your heart's light and devotion as love's yearning.

You are only willing to surrender open if he is fully present you, committed to claiming your heart with his absolute integrity of being. And he is only willing to commit his presence with you if you are willing to surrender open and offer your heart's light and devotion as love's yearning.

dissolve in the force of your loving, and you dissolve in the giving. 2For a book-length treatment of superior sexuality, s

Feel through your woman and the world, and die in the giving of your gift.

Just because I love her, it doesn't mean that I love you less.

You'd think that the people who worshiped the real true God would have better sense.

Love can show itself in many strange ways

That's a strange hobby for a Church Knight. God hired me as a fighting man, Sparhawk, not as a monk. I fight whenever He tells me to, but the rest of my time is my own.

Do you think that praying in a loud voice and pounding your head on the ground will keep him from seeing into your heart?

Sin el conocimiento de Dios por parte de quienes adoran, sin una fe activa, sin reverencia, sin gratitud en el adorador, incluso las mejores formas de adoración simplemente caen por su propio peso.

Un époux, c'est quelqu'un qui travaille au jardin avec toi et qui te réchauffe la nuit dans le lit conjugal. Un homme qui s'inquiète pour toi quand personne d'autre n'a remarqué que tu n'allais pas bien. Quelqu'un qui te tient la main quand tu es malade ou aux portes de la mort.

Readers often become fans of a genre after discovering one defining work in that genre.

You are what you love. No? You are, completely and only, what you would die for without, as you say, the thinking twice.

We are all dying to give our lives away to something, maybe. God or Satan, politics or grammar, topology or philately - the object seemed incidental to this will to give ourselves away, utterly. To games or needles, to some other person. Something pathetic about it. A flight-from in the form of a plunging-into. Flight from exactly what? These rooms, blandly filled with excrement and heat? To what purpose?

What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love?

There is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshiping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship.

There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And an outstanding reason for choosing some sort of God or spiritual-type thing to worship--be it J.C. or Allah, be it Yahweh or the Wiccan mother-goddess or the Four Noble Truths or some infrangible set of ethical principles--is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive.

We are all dying to give our lives away to something, maybe. God or Satan, politics or grammar, topology or philately (...) To games or needles, to some other person.

Y qué pasa cuando a veces no hay opción sobre lo que amar? ¿Y si el templo va a Mahoma? ¿Y si simplemente amas? ¿Sin decidirlo? Lo haces simplemente: la ves y en ese instante te olvidas de la contabilidad y lo único que puedes elegir es amarla...

Lenore, it's simply that I love you. You know that. Every fiber of your being is loved by every fiber of my being. The thought of things about you, concerning you, troubling you, that I don't know about, makes blood run from my eyes, on the inside.

You get to decide what to worship.

We are all dying to give our lives away to something, maybe. God or Satan, politics or grammar, topology or philately—the object seemed incidental to this will to give oneself away, utterly. To games or needles, to some other person.