Quotes About Frailty

It is true greatness to have in one the frailty of a man and the security of a god.

To account nothing of one's self, and to think always kindly and highly of others, this is great and perfect wisdom. Even shouldest thou see thy neighbor sin openly or grievously, yet thou oughtest not to reckon thyself better than he, for thou knowest not how long thou shalt keep thine integrity. All of us are weak and frail; hold thou no man more frail than thyself.

If you should see another openly sin or commit some grievous offense, you should still not think yourself better because of it; for you do not know how long you will be able to stand. We are all weak and frail; but you should regard no one frailer than yourself.

How great is the frailty of human nature which is ever prone to evil! Today you confess your sins and tomorrow you again commit the sins which you confessed.

Even shouldest thou see thy neighbor sin openly or grievously, yet thou oughtest not to reckon thyself better than he, for thou knowest not how long thou shalt keep thine integrity. All of us are weak and frail; hold thou no man more frail than thyself.

How great is the frailty of human nature which is ever prone to evil! Today you confess your sins and tomorrow you again commit the sins which you confessed. One moment you resolve to be careful, and yet after an hour you act as though you had made no resolution.

That is the highest and most profitable lesson, when a man truly knoweth and judgeth lowly of himself. To account nothing of one's self, and to think always kindly and highly of others, this is great and perfect wisdom. Even shouldest thou see thy neighbor sin openly or grievously, yet thou oughtest not to reckon thyself better than he, for thou knowest not how long thou shalt keep thine integrity. All of us are weak and frail; hold thou no man more frail than thyself.

All of us are weak and frail; hold thou no man more frail than thyself.

Nothing, indeed, is more revolting to English feelings than the spectacle of a human being obtruding on our notice his moral ulcers or scars, and tearing away that "decent drapery" which time or indulgence to human frailty may have drawn over them; accordingly, the greater part of our confessions (that is, spontaneous and extra-judicial confessions) proceed from demireps, adventurers, or swindlers.

Whatever the blessing, the talent, or technology, we can still find some way to fuck it up.

Despite my lifetime of declining rich desserts, my evenings spent jogging, regardless of all my careful moderation and self-discipline—I'm trapped, wadded inside a shell of steel and aluminum. My body, violated in countless places by fragments of broken glass. My low-cholesterol blood rushes to abandon me in hot, leaping spurts. Despite all my care, the heart-attack victim and I will both be just as dead.

Even from just a little thing, it's still possible to die.

Man was spread thin throughout the galaxy. A lone man here, a handful there. Slim blobs of bone and brain and muscle to hold a galaxy in check. Slight shoulders to hold up the cloak of human greatness spread across the light-years. For Man had flown too fast, had driven far beyond his physical capacity.

Physically, he was a sickly bald-headed man resembling a pallid gland. His

Moth holes had appeared in the plush of matrimonial comfort.

Mortal frailty, greed, and error, know no boundary lines. The explosives of war do not care whose hands fashion them. Certainly, both Marxists and Christians can be cruel. Would that Christ came back to save us all. We do not know how to save ourselves.

How slight a thing will disturb the equanimity of our frail minds!

they had a weazen little baby, with a heavy head that it couldn't hold up, and two weak staring eyes, with which it seemed to be always wondering why it had ever been born. It

God's justice transcends human frailty, and our duty is to await his answers. Rather than assume the right to determine the laws of God's created order (Crenshaw calls this "Titanism"), we must humbly submit to God's greater wisdom.

Everything you touch turns to broken.

Everybody here is infirm. Everybody here is infirm.

He was listening with pain of spirit to the overtone of weariness behind their frail fresh innocent voices. Even before they set out on life's journey they seemed weary already.

The human spirit is frail. People believe whatever they need to believe. I feel sorry for all of them.

His jaw went slack, the way an old man's does when his thought processes take him into blind alleys.