Quotes About Parson

And speaking of fight action, there is one place where Old Man Suspense can be made to work like an Elkton marrying parson.

The best fellow in the world!' cried Wolf. 'It as only last week that Nobley said to me, "By Gad, Wolf, I've got a living to bestow, and if you had but been brought up at the University, strike me blind if I wouldn't have made a parson of you!

Ethelberta breathed a sort of exclamation, not right out, but stealthily, like a parson's damn.

All your sea-omens are of disaster; and of course, with man in his present unhappy state, huddled together in numbers far too great and spending all his surplus time and treasure beating out his brother's brains, any gloomy foreboding is likely to be fulfilled; but your corpse, your parson, your St Elmo's fire is not the cause of the tragedy.

Yes, it is. Some people would find it frightfully dull to be the daughter of the parson at Chevis Green." "But we don't," cried Liz. "That's exactly what I mean. It's in you from the beginning. Either there's this mysterious thing in you that makes you happy—that makes you interested in everything and interesting to yourself—or else there isn't, and you're dull and dreary and discontented.

Nat Parson says it's the devil's mark. Nat Parson's a gobshite. Maddy was torn between a natural feeling of sacrilege and a deep admiration of anyone who dared call a parson 'gobshite.

That is just a story, Jonathan." Jonathan considered. "Like Jesus, then." The parson frowned and was lost for words.

The parson climbed the stairs wearily back to his room. In summer he was a different person, sprightly and alert, and people took him for a man a decade younger than his years; but in winter he sank as the skies darkened, and by December he was always tired. When he went to bed, he drowned in sleep; when he was wakened from it, dragged from the bleak depths, he was somehow always unrefreshed.

Is there a parson much bemused in beer, a maudlin poetess, a rhyming peer, a clerk foredoom'd his father's soul to cross, who pens a stanza when he should engross?

In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill, For even though vanquished he could argue still.

He was greedy and rude and bitter, but he was still a healer. The parson, though, what was he? He was nothing . Belief is half of all healing. Belief in the cure, belief in the future that awaits. And here was a man who lived on belief, but who sacrificed it at the first challenge, right when he needed it most. He believed selfishly and fearfully. And it took the lives of his daughters.