Quotes About God

I'm fairly bursting tae ken how ye guessed I spoke Scots?' Lymond looked up. Superficial pain, withstood or ignored for quite a long time, had made his eyes heavy, but they were brimming with laughter. 'Well, God,' he said. 'In the water, you were roaring your head off at a bloody bull elephant called Hughie.

Verily, God hath eighteen thousand worlds; and verily, your world is one of them, and this its bright axle-tree.

I am here, Brethren in Christ, to lead you, every man, woman and little child of the Faith, to freedom. God in His mercy be praised.' 'Then God in His mercy has arranged that we should lead them from the rear,' said Jerott Blyth thinly from the window. 'The entire garrison of Tripoli has just marched away.

His tranquil smile deepened. 'We shall meet in Malta, Jerott. Pray for us all. God has been good tonight.' 'Thompson has been rather splendid too,' said Lymond cordially. and waved a cheerful farewell.

Good God, here am I with stockings in either hand, panting towards restitution. I merely require you to keep my soul out of the general conversation.' 'And your brother's soul?' said James Stewart. He was drawling again. 'I understood,' said Lymond, 'that you had that in hand.

Because he knew … God, he knew! Jerott's terrible romanticism, which would taste death so readily; so splendidly offer the blood of his fellows, in defence of the weak and the puny.

I prefer a society which accepts that I have no choice, and does not pretend that I have. I prefer a God who does what he wills, and rules as he desires, and enjoins on me not to prevent anything against its destiny.

The sight of the food made Jerott want to vomit. He said cheerfully, 'Well, well. Thank God you're a dab hand at chess.' 'If you're going to be bright,' said Lymond, with a soft and frightening venom, 'I'll break your sweet little neck.

If one believes in God, but has learned not to pray, one offers only, in silence, one's apologies, and then asks the spirit to do what it can.

A reckoning formally appointed and now paid to the limit. A tribute to Janus, God of Gates, to prevent that other, deferred payment to Charon.

Four days later, Adam Blacklock was back in Paris. To Jerott, to Danny, to Lady Culter, to Richard Crawford, to anyone else who asked what had happened or who talked to him of the Château of Sevigny he had only one answer to make. For the love of God, leave them alone.

I regret Richard isn't with you. No matter. God hath a thousand hand?s to chastise and I have two—how can Richard escape us both?

Verily, God hath eighteen thousand worlds; and verily, your world is one of them, and this its bright axle-tree." The odd phrase stayed with Chancellor, through Pinega and beyond

If you please man and never please God, you have nothing; if you please God and man forsakes you, you have everything.

What do we find God 'doing about' this business of sin and evil?...God did not abolish the fact of evil; He transformed it. He did not stop the Crucifixion; He rose from the dead.

To complain that man measures God by his own experience is a waste of time; man measures everything by his own experience; he has no other yardstick.

this is the weakness of most 'edifying' or 'propaganda' literature. There is no diversity...You cannot, in fact, give God His due without giving the devil his due also.

If God made everything, did He make the Devil?' This is the kind of embarrassing question which any child can ask before breakfast, and for which no neat and handy formula is provided in the Parents' Manual…Later in life, however, the problem of time and the problem of evil become desperately urgent, and it is useless to tell us to run away and play and that we shall understand when we are older. The world has grown hoary, and the questions are still unanswered.

See that the mind is honest, first; the rest may follow or not as God wills. [That] the fundamental treason to the mind ... is the one fundamental treason which the scholar's mind must not allow is the bond uniting all the Oxford people in the last resort.

That God should play the tyrant over man is a dismal story of unrelieved oppression; that man should play the tyrant over man is the usual dreary record of human futility; but that man should play the tyrant over God and find him a better man than himself is an astonishing drama indeed.

I s'pose you couldn't get 'em to bring it in 'Death by the Visitation of God,' could you, Biggs?'' suggested Lord Peter. ''Sort of judgment for wantin' to marry into our family, what?

Thank God!' said Wimsey. 'Where there is a church, there is civilisation.

Why doesn't God smite this dictator dead?' is a question a little remote from us, says one of the characters in The Man Born to Be King. Why, madam, did he not strike you dumb and imbecile before you uttered that baseless and unkind slander the day before yesterday? Or me, before I behaved with such cruel lack of consideration to that well-meaning friend? And why, sir, did he not cause your hand to rot off at the wrist before you signed your name to that dirty little bit of financial trickery?

It is the dogma that is the drama -- not beautiful phrases, nor comforting sentiments, nor vague aspirations to loving-kindness and uplift, nor the promise of something nice after death -- but the terrifying assertion that the same God who made the world lived in the world and passed through the grave and gate of death. Show that to the heathen, and they may not believe it; but at least they may realize that here is something that a man might be glad to believe.