Quotes About Forgiveness

When Sun leaves at dusk, it makes a doorway. We have access to ancestors, to eternity. Breathe out. Ask for forgiveness. Let all hurts and failures go. Let them go.

Cut the ties you have to failure and shame. Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction. Ask for forgiveness. Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.

I understood why women went back to their abusers. The monster wasn't your real husband, he was a bad dream - an alien of sorts - who took over the spirit of your beloved one. He entered and left your husband. It was your real love you welcomed back in.

Oh, you have choked me, but I gave you the leash. You have gutted me but I gave you the knife. You have devoured me, but I laid myself across the fire.

Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse. You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return. Speak to it as you would to a beloved child. Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.

Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you. Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.

I have forgotten the reason, forgive me. I have forgotten my name in the language I was born to, forgive me.

At sunset say goodbye to hurt, to suffering, goodbye to the pain you caused others. Good bye, bye, don't cry.

my father staggering in drunk, beating my mother, the shame and hate in him burning, burning. Then he'd hit my brothers. And then me whom it was said he loved most. He'd save me for last, when his anger was ashes, when the fire was hottest. And then he's hold me, 'Sugar, sugar', he's croon, the tears so thick they made a lake on the linoleum floor.

Maybe, love is always forgiveness, to a degree.

her Quaker instincts led her to apologize for wrongs not her own to minimize conflict.

It's a taboo subject. How the dead are betrayed by the living. We who are living--we who have survived--understand that our guilt is what links us to the dead. At all times we can hear them calling to us, a growing incredulity in their voices, You will not forget me -- will you? How can you forget me? I have no one but you.

If she lets us down, if she's weird sometimes—just ignore it, and love her. Just love her.

She had paid for these mistakes. (Had she?) But still, you are never fully acquitted of any mistake that involves another, and so the Intern had not been fully acquitted of her mistakes, and her shame of such mistakes.

Still, I am angry with him. I am very angry with him. With my poor dead defenseless husband, I am furious as I was rarely—perhaps never—furious with him, in life. How can I forgive you, you've ruined both our lives.

Silence rolled at me, in waves. They are all dead, and you are free. And you are blameless.

We know what our punishment is, but what was our sin?

It is very hard to prevail where you are not, in the deepest and most intimate and forgiving of ways, loved. It is very hard to prevail in any case but without this love, it is close to impossible.

For the past few days, she had been praying and meditating upon what to do and she had decided she must do nothing, for it was she who had made the mistake and not the boy and she must not bear witness against him.

You don't understand! Gilbert turned his back on me, but he wouldn't have turned his back on God." Ariah

Unlike other sins, however, despair is by tradition the sole sin that cannot be forgiven; it is the conviction that one is damned absolutely, thus a repudiation of the Christian Saviour and a challenge to God's infinite capacity for forgiveness.

Foolish woman, don't despair. My justice is My mercy. 5

Of all Biblical figures, surely Judas is the most misunderstood, as he is the most condemned!"—so Winslow believed.

papà ci amava. Ci ama. Diceva che, se non ci avesse voluto bene, non ci avrebbe punite. Riesco a capirlo, davvero. Però è un modo di pensare malato, e sbagliato".