Quotes About Flesh

His words were then these as followeth: Know all men, he said, time's ruins build eternity's mansions. What means this? Desire's wind blasts the thorntree but after it becomes from a bramblebush to be a rose upon the rood of time. Mark me now. In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. Omnis cam ad te veniet

The whores would be just coming out of their houses making ready for the night, yawning lazily after their sleep and settling the hairpins in their clusters of hair. He would pass by them calmly waiting for a sudden movement of his own will or a sudden call to his sinloving soul from their soft perfumed flesh.

With hungered flesh obscurely, he mutely craved to adore.

They mouth love's language. Gnash The thirteen teeth Your lean jaws grin with. Lash Your itch and quailing, nude greed of the flesh. Love's breath in you is stale, worded or sung, As sour as cat's breath, Harsh of tongue.

In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away.

In woman's womb word is made flesh but in the spirit of the maker all flesh that passes becomes the word that shall not pass away. This is the postcreation. Omnis caro ad te veniet.

The New Testament presents, in its way, the same union of the divine and human as the person of Christ. In this sense also 'the word became flesh, and dwells among us.'

Plot is what happens in your story. Every story needs structure, just as every body needs a skeleton. It is how you 'flesh out and clothe' your structure that makes each story unique.

American Women: How they mortify the flesh in order to make it appetizing! Their beauty is a vast industry, their enduring allure a discipline which nuns or athletes might find excessive.

Miracle woman ... Your mouth is wine, and all your tender flesh An easeful meadow for my weariness.

Praised be the good willing women who understand and take part in the fun--the body is an exacting beater, and even the heart is made of flesh.

He'd been told that women were sensitive about such things, as if a scar could somehow ruin their beauty, but scars were just stories told in flesh...

The flesh endures the storms of the present alone the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind.

This is the tragedy: Consciousness has forced us into the paradoxical position of striving to be unself-conscious of what we are—hunks of spoiling flesh on disintegrating bones.

While horror may make us squirm or quake, it will not make us cry at the pity of things. The vampire may symbolize our horror of both life and death, but none of us has ever been uprooted by a symbol. The zombie may conceptualize our sickness of the flesh and its appetites, but no one has ever been sickened to death by a concept.

Behold! Behold the black, ungrainèd flesh, The jaw's jeweled hinge that we can barely glimpse …

Christ was born of a virgin, that we might be born of God. He took our flesh, that He might give us His Spirit. He lay in the manger that we might lie in paradise. He came down from heaven, that He might bring us to heaven. And what was all this but love? If our hearts be not rocks, this love of Christ should affect us. Behold, love that surpasses knowledge!

In considering found that the papists did not deny him to be come in the flesh, nor we did not deny him - who then was antichrist? Was the Turk antichrist only?

I like Cronenberg's early work; his '80s films had all these weird, amorphous flesh objects in them.

When Jesus said ast and you'll get it, He meant things of the spirit, not the flesh. Grandpa said Jesus meant us to ast for hope, forgiveness, and all like that. Ast 'Hep us not be scared, hep us not be greedy, give us courage to try…Ast any such and God will give it to you. But don't ast Him not to let fire burn, or say spare me from death.

When faced with Death, people lose control of their bodily functions—particularly the majority of those men who are known to be brave-hearted. For this reason, the corpse-strewn battlefields that you've depicted thousands of times reek not of blood, gunpowder and heated armor as is assumed, but of shit and rotting flesh.

The ambiguity of flesh made for a vastness of possibility that simply could not exist in a binary world.

Sins of the flesh are nothing. They are maladies for physicians to cure, if they should be cured. Sins of the soul alone are shameful.

What deity in the realms of dementia, what rabid god decocted out of the smoking lobes of hydrophobia could have devised a keeping place for souls so poor as is this flesh. This mawky worm-bent tabernacle.