Quotes About Deed

Because no one is good without God. And we can do nothing good without Him. So it's futile to regret a good deed, Ulf, for the good you have done cannot be taken back; even if all the mountains should fall, it would still stand.

I only ask to live, with pure faith keeping In word and deed that Law which leaps the sky, Made of no mortal mould, undimmed, unsleeping Whose living godhead does not age or die.

I would choose so to live that I might stand boldly with my deed without regret throughout eternity.

True it is, no doubt, in the order of abstract relationship, thought is the father of speech, and speech is the harbinger of deed; but this abstract fatherhood of thought is a thing in itself absolutely without reality; the mere thought of an orange, though entertained and cherished in the most capacious of fertile brains for infinite ages, will never produce an orange.

We cannot, therefore, in aspiring to a divine life, overlook the dignity of deed, to make an idol of thought.

A prayer without a deed is an arrow without a bowstring; A deed without a prayer is a bowstring without an arrow. The heart of a man should be like a quiver full of arrows, And the hand of a man should be like a strong bow strung for action. The heart of a man should keep his arrows ever ascending, And the hand and the mind of a man should keep at a work unending.

To the multitude, and afterward more fully to His disciples, Jesus explained that defilement comes not from without, but from within. Purity and impurity pertain to the soul. It is the evil deed, the evil word, the evil thought, the

grand bridge-building was also considered an honourable and Christian deed.

To judge a man by his weakest link or deed is like judging the power of the ocean by one wave.

We are, no doubt, accustomed to connect the notion of value rather with things believed in, than with the beliefs of which they are the subjects. A fine symphony, an heroic deed, a good dinner, an assured livelihood, have admitted values. But what values can we attribute to beliefs and judgments, except in so far as they are aids and instruments for obtaining valuable objects?

The act is truth. Nothing that was ever recorded is truth. Nothing that was ever said is truth. Only the act.

One brave deed makes no hero.

The danger that lies in the repression of the imagination may be well illustrated from the play of Macbeth. The imagination of the hero (in him a powerful faculty), representing how the deed would appear to others, and so representing its true nature to himself, was his great impediment on the path to crime.

Belief fails when it works not well indeed but is idle as a sleeping man... Each virtuous deed is strong when it is grounded upon the solidity of belief.

How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Who made the world I cannot tell; 'Tis made, and here am I in hell. My hand, though now my knuckles bleed, I never soiled with such a deed.

There is nothing complex about this most simple of moral maxims; its difficulty is in the doing, not in the knowing.

Some families, Katie told us, are devil-haunted; it's a curse a family can never shake off. Maybe it's something terrible in the family history, some terrible deed that was done in the past, and it just spreads and it spreads down the generations like a shout down a tunnel that echoes and echoes and never really stops.

Time often serves to justify a deed which seems at first unjustifiable.

A deed happens in a definite place at a definite time, but if it be sufficiently great and pregnant, its virtue radiates everywhere in time and space.

They forget to mention that he is the slowest mover in the universe; that his Eye that never sleeps, might as well, since it takes it a century to see what any other eye would see in a week; that in all history there is not an instance where he thought of a noble deed first, but always thought of it just a little after somebody else had thought of it and done it. He arrives then, and annexes the dividend.

a good deed ain't ever forgot.

As T. S. Eliot has said: "The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason.

And so it was that I found myself that foggy November evening pursuing the Camberwell tram with my heart glowing within me, and with the eager determination that not another day should elapse before I should find some deed which was worthy of my lady. But who—who in all this wide world could ever have imagined the incredible shape which that deed was to take, or the strange steps by which I was led to the doing of it? And