Quotes About Faith

Were you praying?' Lemieux was embarrassed to ask. Prayer, in his generation, was worse than rape, worse than sodomy, worse than failure. He felt he'd just deeply insulted the chief.

Like the rest of the Québécois? Like Beauvoir himself? Did they curse the Church? Câlice! Tabernac! Hostie! The Québécois had turned religious words into dirty words.

B'ezrat hashem,

Louise Penny

Louise Penny

I'll pray that you grow up a brave man in a brave country," he whispered. "I will pray you find a way to be useful.

put it there. He makes us better men and better monks. He believes in God and he believes in the power of love and forgiveness. And not just a faith of convenience.

Despond not, though times be bale, And baleful be, Though winds blow stout –

The bishop-that-burneth.

But she could no longer say she believed in God and act otherwise. She did believe in God. And she believed that Jane was with him. And suddenly her pain and grief became human and natural. And survivable. She had a place to put it, a place where Jane was with God.

People believe what they want to believe. Beginning with their own lies." "Hell is the truth seen too late," said Reine-Marie as she poured out more coffee. "Thomas Hobbes.

waited on my call, nor does any

Lying all night, holding Clara, he'd dared to hope that the worst was over. That maybe the grief, while still there, would today allow some of his wife to be present. But the woman he knew and loved had been swallowed up. Like Jonah.

Lying all night, holding Clara, he'd dared to hope that the worst was over. That maybe the grief, while still there, would today allow some of his wife to be present. But the woman he knew and loved had been swallowed up. Like Jonah. Her white whale of sorrow and loss in an ocean of body fluid.

The one inscribed Surprised by Joy and, above that, A Brave Man in a Brave Country.

They knew who was on their side. When did it get so difficult to tell? Gamache wondered.

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole".

Ring the bells that still can ring, Forget your perfect offering, There's a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.

The old Hadley house was abandoned now. Had been empty for months. But Peter knew it wasn't empty. For one thing he'd left part of himself in it. Not a hand or a nose or a foot, thank God. But things that had no substance but fantastic weight. He'd left his hope there, and trust. He'd left his faith there too. What little he had, he'd lost. There. Peter

There was, or could be, outright danger. Believing a person capable of redemption when they'd proven they were not.

But Peter knew it wasn't empty. For one thing he'd left part of himself in it. Not a hand or a nose or a foot, thank God. But things that had no substance but fantastic weight. He'd left his hope there, and trust. He'd left his faith there too. What little he had, he'd lost.

She was scared to death. She was killed by her beliefs. By someone taking advantage of them.

my beliefs comfort, they don't kill.

For Frère Mathieu there were no more mysteries. He knew who took his life. And he now knew if there was a God. And a Heaven. And angels. And even a celestial choir.