Quotes About Devotion

There are many ways to love someone. Sometimes we want to love so much we're not too choosy about who we love. Other times we make love such a pure and noble thing no poor human can ever meet our vision. But for the most part, love is a recognition, an opportunity to say, 'There is something about you I cherish.' It doesn't entail marriage, or even physical love. There's love of parents, love of city or nation, love of life, and love of people. All different, all love.

Mara hoarsely found her voice. 'You will take no concubine.' Her tone did not indicate a question. And her husband's steely stillness became answer in itself, until he acknowledged the truth. 'My lady, you are all the woman I could wish in this world. So long as you are at my side, I will have no other.

When my friends began to have babies and I came to comprehend the heroic labor it takes to keep one alive, the constant exhausting tending of a being who can do nothing and demands everything, I realized that my mother had done all of these things for me before I remembered. I was fed; I was washed; I was clothed; I was taught to speak and given a thousand other things, over and over again, hourly, daily, for years. She gave me everything before she gave me nothing.

When you love someone a lot, they just look like love.

Zeal implied a strict adherence to the Torah and the Law, a refusal to serve any foreign master—to serve any human master at all—and an uncompromising devotion to the sovereignty of God.

The single most important factor in the performance of any Muslim ritual is the believer's intention, which must be consciously proclaimed before the ritual can begin.

What most puzzled Rome about the Jews was not their unfamiliar rites or their strict devotion to their laws, but rather what the Romans considered to be their unfathomable sense of superiority. The notion that an insignificant Semitic tribe residing in a distant corner of the mighty Roman Empire demanded, and indeed received, special treatment from the emperor was, for many Romans, simply incomprehensible.

Whoever sacrifices to any god but the Lord alone shall be utterly annihilated" (Exodus 22:20).

Vincet amor patriae. (Vergil Aen. 6.823.)

Personne n'abandonnera personne. Si tu restes, je reste avec toi.

Real love stories never have endings.

Keep working on love.

For each of them, the most important thing in living was to reach out and touch perfection in that which they most loved to do...

Åžu an olduÄŸunuz kiÅŸi olabilmek için hayat?n?z? adad?n?z. Buna deÄŸdi mi?

Brad looked at his wife with that expression of love that is the sole property of people who have been married over ten years.

If you will die for me, I will die for you and our graves will be like two lovers washing their clothes together in a laundromat If you will bring the soap I will bring the bleach.

It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart. But the wait was worth it. Because I was in love.

religious faith has something of the same character as falling in love (and both have many of the attributes of being high on an addictive drug*

The equivalent of the moth's light-compass reaction is the apparently irrational but useful habit of falling in love with one, and only one, member of the opposite sex. The misfiring by-product—equivalent to flying into the candle flame—is falling in love with Yahweh (or with the Virgin Mary, or with a wafer, or with Allah) and performing irrational acts motivated by such love.

Problems arise when (especially) theologians use such metaphorical language without realizing that that is what they are doing, and without even realizing that there is a distinction between metaphor and reality – saying something like: 'It is not important whether Jesus really fed the five thousand. What matters is what the idea of the story means to us.' Actually it is important, because millions of devout people do believe the Bible is literally true.

Some of life must be devoted to living itself; some of life must be devoted to doing something worthwhile with one's life, not just to perpetuating it.

and how if she didn't see him for another thirty years she would still love him, how she would still love him if he was dead until she was dead too.

As the cards fluttered to earth, as everyone's hand was revealed as worthless, as every point won was shown to be a pointless charade, she would tell them how wonderful this other man was, and how if she didn't see him for another thirty years she would still love him, how she would still love him if he was dead until she was dead too. But instead she watched as Harry Robertson played the right bower, and he and Keith, who always played as partners, won the hand.

Love isn't a thing, after all, but an endless series of single acts.