Quotes About Forgiveness

I personally apologize to any person who felt anything less than respected and valued by myself.

I shoulda taken ya into town, Missie. Gave ya a chance to see the outside world again, to visit an' chat. I missed yer need, Missie, an'-an' ya never complain-jest let me go on, makin' dumb mistakes right an' left. A sorry-looking bunch of cowpokes, a work-crazy husband an' a baby who can't say more than 'goo' ain't much fer company. Yet ya never, never say a thing 'bout it. I love you, too, Missie-so very much.

Because I accept this, I am beginning to understand now why he had to die. He was the sacrifice for our sin. Not just mine. For all of us. The perfect Lamb that God promised to send. But this work is finished now—just as he said. Through him, we no longer stand condemned. It is almost beyond comprehension. We are free, Leah. Forgiven and free.

Jesus told us that anyone can love a friend. Even the unbelievers do so, even the Romans. But we as believers are called to love our enemies." He paused and stared down at the floor. "I left that meeting a broken man.

Lord, do not charge them with this sin.

Jesus never taught revolution, the kind with swords and battles and bloodshed. He talked about a revolution of love. Love your neighbor. Love your enemy.

The knowledge of my forgiveness washed over me again. I was free. Free from my sin. From my wretched past. I could see it in his eyes—and then he spoke my name.

Have you grown since I saw you last?" "No, master. I'm still the runt you left behind." "I have never called you that. Scamp, most certainly. Scoundrel, almost daily. But never runt." "That's

I'll die for your sins if you live for mine.

If what you need, in order to feel good about yourself later on, is to show him some mercy - then show him mercy. If you need to tell him the truth, do that. But try to look at in terms of what you're going to be able to live with ten, twenty years down the line.

What is there to forgive?. . .Ignore forgive and concentrate on living. Life for you is short; far too short to allow small jealousies to infringe on the happiness which can be yours only for the briefest of times.

I found Jane, too, or perhaps she found me. It doesn't really matter. We found each other. And although she was Grey and I was Red, we shared a common thirst for justice that transcended Chromatic politics. I loved her, and what's more, I was beginning to think that she loved me. After all, she did apologize before she pushed me into the leafless expanse below the spread of the yateveo, and she wouldn't have done that if she'd felt nothing.

los hombres no piden perdón: hacen lo que hacen y dicen lo que dicen, y luego se aguantan.

Grace saved my life; it can revolutionize yours.

When we really understand it, we will always find grace offensive. And that's exactly the way it should be. If we start to feel comfortable with grace, then we've lost what it really means.

In order for grace to truly be grace, it has to extend to absolutely everyone, no matter what, no questions, no exceptions. Otherwise we think that somehow, by living a moral life...we've deserved it

You can't stay mad at someone who makes you laugh.

Fashion dies very young, so we must forgive it everything.

I'm starting to believe that happily ever after includes people doing things that upset each other. We all get cranky, or impatient, or worried, or careless enough to do or say things that hurt someone else. Like it or not, that's normal. We can't blame it all on Olympia's bad energy. The important part is that we feel sorry about what we've done and make up for it. That's something Olympia never did.

There is no evildoer who could not be made good for something.

she felt a warmth towards him, and as she had done many times before to another man she remembered only vaguely, the little girl put her arms around the crippled man's neck, pulled his head down to her and rested her cheek against his.

Sorry. That is courtesy, right? Custom? Jondalar, what good are words like sorry? It doesn't change anything, it doesn't make me feel any better." He pulled his hand through his hair. She was right. Whatever he had done—and he thought he knew what it was—being sorry didn't help.

When you insult or injure the unfortunate or the unhappy, you insult Christ Himself and He will not forget, for they are His chosen ones.

Lies are never forgotten, they go on and they grow