Quotes About Robe

Yet, there is another robe that wisdom yet clothes Herself, and of which we must, in most persuasive language induce Her to remove for us. As Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton wrote in Zanoni 'What is it that conceals itself behind this veil?' The fabric is not as coarse as silk but morphic instead; Her diaphanous robe is woven of pure energy.

Upon our turning to God, we have more restored to us in Christ—than ever was lost in Adam. God says to the repenting soul, "I will clothe you with the robe of righteousness; I will enrich you with the jewels and graces of my Spirit. I will bestow my love upon you! I will give you a kingdom! Son, all I have is yours!

You see this robe that I wear?" Bellchambers caressingly touched the straight-hanging garment: "At last I have found something that will not bag at the knees.

With a snicker, the cop said that the editor could always take his complaint to higher-ups—Muncie's chief of police or the Delaware County sheriff, both Klansmen who'd recently passed by in front of them. Or he could go directly to the prosecutor, the one hidden by mask and robe at the head of the Klan parade.

I am the spirit of righteousness. They call me the Ku Klux Klan I am more than the uncouth robe and hood With which I am clothed. Yea, I am the soul of America.

Of course it [the robe] smelled -- that was part of its charm. Smell is important. It reminds a person of all the things he's been though; it is a sheath of memories and security.

Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love: now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief

They were lying on a bed of soft moss at the edge of The Crooked Forest. He could hear waves crashing along the shore. She was sprawled out in a robe of silver, her hair spread beneath her like a tide pool.

Heart's fragrance is spent with the ending of spring And nothing left but a tear-stained robe.

Hell hath no fury like a middle-aged woman in a fuzzy pink robe, hopped up on a winning combination of allergy medicine, Alias reruns, and anger.

Alas! In vain historians pry and probe: The same wind blows, and in the same live robe Truth bends her head to fingers curved cupwise; And with a woman's smile and a child's care Examines something she is holding there Concealed by her own shoulder from our eyes.

Death is the waiting-room where we robe ourselves for immortality.

He is wearing only a white loincloth, the shawl over his shoulders and sandals- the costume he will wear for the rest of his life.

Hurrying on, Barbee nodded to the workman as casually as he could. His skin felt goose-pimpled under the thin red robe, and he couldn't help shivering to a colder chill than he felt in the frosty air. For the quiet city, it seemed to him, was only a veil of painted illusion. Its air of sleepy peace concealed brooding horror, too frightful for sane minds to dwell upon. Even the cheery bricklayer with the lunch pail might - just might - be the monstrous Child of Night.

The open sky sits upon our senses like a sapphire crown - the Air is our robe of state - the Earth is our throne, and the Sea a mighty minstrel playing before it.

Clothe yourself with wisdom like a robe, put knowledge upon you like a crown, and be seated upon the throne of perception.'90

When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there.

I'm staying in a lovely hotel, dressing robe behind the door, lovely fluffy sheets - took me a half an hour getting my suitcase closed.

In my new robe/This morning-/Someone else

Once she was out of her clothes and into a warm robe, she headed back downstairs, passing the bathroom door, where she could hear Daphne begging Elvis to get into the tub with her. A tremendous splash told Sabrina that the little girl had gotten her wish.

Sometimes, it reads like a love story: falling in love with a stranger; falling so far that you forsake all others; falling away from yourself until you are not an American and you are not Japanese and you are not a layperson and you are not a monk and you find yourself wrapped up in a black robe and falling on your knees to bow down in gratitude to the person who occasioned this fortunate fall.

If God accepts us at all, He accepts us wholeheartedly, and He covers us completely with the spotless robe of righteousness. This robe of divine acceptance does not come in gray, but only in dazzling white, and one either has the robe or not. One is either righteous or wicked. And anyone who is wicked can have that status quickly amended by a trip to the cross.

She had not even put on her clothes; she was still wearing the robe. And she was yelling "Potato" so desperately that she was forgetting to stick her head out the window, she was yelling into the interior of the car uselessly, as if Potato were within her, like God.

These people make one feel as if a stronger memory of our former innocence remains in them, as if they were a freak of nature, not entirely battered by the Fall. Perhaps they are messengers, like the servants who find a lost prince who's unaware of his origins, show him the robe that he