Quotes About Revelation

Breeze looked at me very steadily. Then he sighed. Then he picked the glass up and tasted it and sighed again shook his head sideways with a half smile; the way a man does when you give him a drink and he needs it very badly and it is just right and the first swallow is like a peek into a cleaner, sunnier, brighter world.

If any god helps me, I'll welcome it, but I'd also be surprised.

time is coming, soon, when I will tell you things you will wish I had never told you.

one evangelical scientist who had felt his doubts falling away from him when he was hiking in the mountains and came upon a frozen waterfall—in fact a trinity of a frozen waterfall, with three parts to it. "At that moment, I felt my resistance leave me. And it was a great sense of relief.

He hadn't altogether gotten it himself until this moment of seeing straight through to the soul of her.

And by the way, Sherlock Holmes is Jewish. He changed his name. I'm surprised you nerver guessed it. (p. 248)

No matter how deeply you come to know a place, you can keep coming back to know it more.

Stories move in from the shadows to the limelight. And though the stage presents the drama of our powerlessness, the shadows offer the secret of our power.

Lost really has two disparate meanings. Losing things is about the familiar falling away, getting lost is about the unfamiliar appearing.

Ideas emerge from edges and shadows to arrive in the light, and though that's where they may be seen by others, that's not where they're born.

I have come to long not to see new places but to return and know the old ones more deeply, to see them again.

When we are attracted, we draw near; when we draw near, the sight that attracted us dissolves: the face of the beloved blurs or fractures as one draws near for a kiss, the smooth cone of Mount Fuji becomes rough rock rising from underfoot to blot out the sky.

the Men Who Knew came out of the woodwork.

I always knew that my middle name was an anglicized version of a great-grandmother's name, but I dropped it in my teens, not liking its sound and feeling that a middle name was unnecessary, given how few people have my last name. Only now have I realized which great-grandmother that name belonged to, only writing this story do I know the name of that unknown woman and that it is also mine, or is now the blank space between my names.

Science doesn't reduce things, or explain mysteries away; it just discovers stranger and stranger things.

Siddalee looked at me like: You liar, Daddy, you big liar. I don't know why I'm thinking

sits on the bedspread between her and Necie. I can smell that nail polish in the clean cool air of the woods. The minute Mama opens her mouth I realize she's had at least four drinks. Her voice is loose and deep and content and amused, and she says: Edythe, don't you ever

Mama parted with these Divine Secrets because I asked her to, Sidda thought. The reason I feel like crying, Sidda realized, is not just because this scrapbook is vulnerable, but because Mama, whether she knows it or not, has made herself so vulnerable to

It was his hopeless hope that some time he would have an experience that would act on his life like alchemy, turning to gold all the dark metals of events, and from that revelation he would go on his way rich with an inextinguishable joy. There had been, of course, no chance of his ever getting it. Literally there wasn't room to swing a revelation in his crowded life.

All this flitted across his mind, plus an epiphanic revelation of the significance of that second initial which he'd never known the Fat Man use anywhere else as he heard Urquhart say, "Don't know it, Hamish. What's it about?

The terrible thing about the quest for truth is that you find it.

Il ne faut pas comprendre, il faut voir. Paris vous guérira. PARIS VOUS GUÉRIRA DU PASSÉ !

Alors l'amour est une supercherie ? - Qu'en penses tu ? - Je pense que rien de ce que tu m'as montré ne tient contre ce que j'ai à te dire. - Qu'as tu à me dire ? - Je t'aime, dit Viviane.

practically every word ever written about Jesus of Nazareth, including every gospel story in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, was written by people who, like Stephen and Paul, never actually knew Jesus when he was alive (recall that, with the possible exception of Luke, the gospels were not written by those after whom they were named).