Quotes About Fault

Make no mistake: Satan's specialty is psychological warfare. If he can turn us on God ("It's not fair!"), or turn us on others ("It's their fault!"), or turn us on ourselves ("I'm so stupid!"), we won't turn on him. If we keep fighting within ourselves and losing our own inner battles, we'll never have the strength to stand up and fight our true enemy.

I think in most relationships that have problems, there's fault on both sides. And in order for it to work, there has to be some common ground that's shared. And it's not just one person making amends.

People make mistakes. People do things they never meant to do.

Although I do wrong, I do not the wrongs that I am charged with doing the wrong that I do is through the frailty of human nature, like other men. No man lives without fault.

The distinction is essential. Fault implies a failure or weakness for which a person should be held to account, if not outright blamed. Misfortune is an unhappy circumstance, something bad that has happened to a blameless good person.

Her dreams had been just that—dreams. Wishful illusions, all of her own making. If he wasn't what she'd expected, that was her fault. She'd been expecting something that didn't even exist. And she should have known better.

Assad is unquestionably guilty of the most grievous fault and has inflicted horrors upon his people.

You can't fault a player because he got injured.

When I make a mistake it's a beaut!

A worthy old scholar, criticising the king's penmanship, pointed out a fault. He, smiling, erased the word, but when the critic was gone, began to restore it, remarking that it was right, but it was better to spoil paper than the self-confidence of an old man.

The destructive power of pride is that it countenances nothing higher than itself. Because of an inherent fault in our nature, man's bias is on the side of error. In our willful desire to live independently of God, we have severed the lifeline that flows from the source of all life.

And off she toddled back into the flat, banging Lassoo in the face with the door as he followed behind her. He looked up at me as if to say, 'That's your fucking fault.

Don't get all worked up on my, young fella. An old woman like me is allowed to match-make from time to time. It's not my fault you're thirty-something and still unmarried. Don't you know that the best way to stop all the interfering hullabaloo is to just get hitched?

Either I'm funny or the world's funny. I don't know which. The bottle and lid don't fit. It could be the bottle's fault or the lid's fault. In either case, there's no denying that the fit is bad.

How can the mind be so imperfect? she says with a smile. I look at my hands. Bathed in the moonlight, they seem like statues, proportioned to no purpose. It may well be imperfect, I say, but it leaves traces. And we can follow those traces, like footsteps in the snow. Where do the lead? To oneself, I answer. That's where the mind is. Without the mind, nothing leads anywhere. I look up. The winter moon is brilliant, over the Town, above the Wall. Not one thing is your fault, I comfort her.

What the world needs is a set villain that people can point at and say, "It's all your fault!

The man who can smile when things go wrong has thought of someone else he can blame it on.

Out of sight, out of mind. The absent are always in the wrong.

The environmental crisis arises from a fundamental fault: our systems of production - in industry, agriculture, energy and transportation - essential as they are, make people sick and die.

Behold my heart, O God, behold my heart, which Thou hadst pity upon in the bottom of the bottomless pit. Now, behold, let my heart tell Thee what it sought there, that I should be gratuitously evil, having no temptation to ill, but the ill itself. It was foul, and I loved it; I loved to perish, I loved mine own fault, not that for which I was faulty, but my fault itself. Foul soul, falling from Thy firmament to utter destruction; not seeking aught through the shame, but the shame itself!

When we say that blindness is a defect of the eyes, we prove that sight belongs to the nature of the eyes; and when we say that deafness is a defect of the ears, hearing is thereby proved to belong to their nature;—so, when we say that it is a fault of the angelic creature that it does not cleave to God, we hereby most plainly declare that it pertained to its nature to cleave to God.

it had bred false camaraderies and drawn my attention to deep flaws and fault lines when what mattered--what matters so often in the course of everyday human life--were the surfaces and the joins.

When we use these words and we talk about plants having a strategy to do this or wanting this or desiring this, we're being metaphorical obviously. I mean, plants do not have consciousness. But, this is a fault of our own vocabulary. We don't have a very good vocabulary to describe what others species do to us, because we think we're the only species that really does anything.

This is a fault common to all singers, that among their friends they will never sing when they are asked; unasked, they will never desist.