Quotes About Protection

Fear of vikings build castles.

I used to think the same thing. Thought that by keeping it to myself, I was protecting you. Truth is—" He shook his head and spat again. "The truth is the only thing that doesn't hurt.

Above all else, guard your heart . . . And on the back . . . for it is the wellspring of life.

To us—those who seek the solace of the marsh—it is a stage where God paints—yellow in the morning, green toward noon, brownish in the afternoon, and blood red toward evening. It is the sentinel that stands guard at the ocean's edge, protecting the sea from the runoff that would kill it. It is a selfless and sacrificial place. And when I close my eyes, it is also the smell of home.

My job was to create a shelf, a platform. Scaffolding. To fill the air around her with a structure. Something safe.

things, require the state to register sex offenders and notify the public of their presence in the community.

Full participation in government and society has been a basic right of the country symbolizing the full citizenship and equal protection of all.

The greatest enemy of liberty is fear. When people feel comfortable and well protected, they are naturally expansive and tolerant of one another's opinions and rights. When they feel threatened, their tolerance shrinks.

He wants you all to Himself to put His loving, divine arms around you.

Courage is not measured by Marching bands and banners in the wind. If you have not walked The bloody lines and seen the faces, You have no right to describe it so. We die here to keep you safe at home, And what we suffer Pray you may never know.

No one ever stepped forward to protect me, Inspector. I wonder why I should feel any driving sense of duty to protect anyone else. Let me tell you something about love. It can be very cruel and very greedy. I've had done with it. And that has given me a freedom that I cherish.

You were one of the lucky ones," Dr. Fleming had told him not a fortnight ago. "But you can't see it as luck. In your view it's intolerable, your survival. You're punishing yourself because a whimsical God let you live. You think you've failed the dead, failed to protect them and keep them alive and bring them back home again. But no one could have done that, Ian. Don't you see? No one could have brought all of them through!

He won't tell me very much about his war. None of us do. It isn't something to share, you see. What we've seen, what we've done, ought to stay in France. But it didn't, it came home in our memories. They aren't memories we want you to know. You are the world we fought for. Safe and sane and not ugly. Better to keep it that way.

Jesus, lover of my soul,Let me to Thy bosom fly,While the waters nearer roll,While the tempest still is high;Hide me, O my Savior, hide,Till the storm of life is past;Safe into the haven glide,O receive my soul at last.

jittery, neurotic parents don't need any more false scares to piss their pants over. They're already raising their twatty little offspring like mollycoddled prisoners: banned from playing outdoors in case a paedophile ring burrows through the pavement and eats them, locked indoors with nothing but anti-bacterial plasma screens for company, ferried to and from school in spluttering rollcaged tanks. . . Christ, half these kids would view choking to death as a release.

If a wolf attacks his sheep, the shepherd kills the wolf, but he eats the sheep when he's hungry.

They would catch her. They would make sure she was all right. That's what grown-ups did. They looked after you. They—

Not that I have any little kids running around I need to keep away from the guns. I had any kids I'd get rid of the guns. Nothing more dangerous to the life of a child than a house full of firearms. Nothing more dangerous except maybe a parent.

Clem: Hide me somewhere deeper, somewhere really buried. Joel: Where? Clem: Hide me in your humiliation.

The best way to not get your heart broken, is pretending you don't have one.

He wanted to offer her the comfort of his home, shelter in his arms, pleasure from his body.

We have a fictional "I" that we try to love and protect. We spend most of our life playing this futile game. "What will happen? How will it go? Will I get something out of it?" I, I, I—it's a mind game of illusion, and we are lost in it.

I always lock the door when I creep by daylight.

Suggestion: when you find an intruder, it might be a good idea to raise the alarm.