Category: Quotes


Quote of the Weekend

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.” – Louis Carroll

(I love this quote!)

Quote of the Weekend

I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

When the day has come
That I’ve lost my way around
And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground
When the sky turns gray
And everything is screaming
I will reach inside
Just to find my heart is beating

Oh, you tell me to hold on
Oh, you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)

When the hour is nigh
And hopelessness is sinking in
And the wolves all cry
To fill the night with hollering
When your eyes are red
And emptiness is all you know
With the darkness fed
I will be your scarecrow

You tell me to hold on
Oh you tell me to hold on
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you (for you)
I’m bleeding out for you

‘Cause I’m bleeding out
So if the last thing that I do
Is to bring you down
I’ll bleed out for you
So I bare my skin
And I count my sins
And I close my eyes
And I take it in
And I’m bleeding out
I’m bleeding out for you, for you.

- Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons

( You may have noticed that I recently got into Imagine Dragons.  Not only is their band name great, but their songs are awesome, or at least a lot of them are.  I’ve run across a few I don’t really enjoy, but I guess that’s true with any band.  I like this song cause I believe someone did bleed out for me, they counted my sin, took it in and bled for me.  It is a good reminder of that.  I also like the haunted quality of it, which if you know me, haunted is one of my favorite things.  I blame that on Lord of the Rings.  This song might have something to do with my recent obsession with the idea of a Scarecrow:  An empty man, tied to a stick, protecting the field from ravens.  Wow.  Talk about some imagery and room for a great story.)

Quote of the Weekend

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood’s run stale

I want to hide the  truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There’s  nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of  greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you  feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where  my demons hide

Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where  my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

When the curtain’s call
Is the last of all
When the lights fade out
All the sinners crawl
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At  the mess you made

Don’t want to let you down 
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for  you
Don’t want to hide the truth
No matter what we breed
We still  are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom  come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my  demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

Don’t get too close
It’s  dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

They say it’s what you make
I say it’s up to fate
It’s woven in my  soul
I need to let you go
Your eyes, they shine so bright
I want to  save their light
I can’t escape this now
Unless you show me how

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

Don’t get too close
It’s dark inside
It’s where my demons hide
It’s where my demons hide

- Demons by Imagine Dragons

(I like to think of this song as Fortunatus’ song to Akilina.  He loves this pure angel but he has blood on his hands, he’s cursed.   He always feels like he doesn’t want her too close.  The song has a beautiful pleading sound to it that I love.)

Quote of the Weekend

The glance in the mirror startles me.

I see not my face, my eyes, my hair, but the truth.

I see the monster twisted by selfishness inside.

No amount of scrubbing with a cleaner, even 409, will remove the monster inside.

 

I try.  I try.  I try.

 

I try to be better.  I try to hide the monster down deeper.  I try to look pretty.  But I’m a monster.  How pretty can I really make myself before someone points out what I really am?

I beat on the mirror.  Maybe if I break it’s damning reflection the monster will be gone.  Shards of glass cut me, but the broken glass only shows more monsters from more angles.  Scattered at my feet they laugh at me.  They taunt me.  They haunt me.

Blood drips on the broken mirror.  Drip. Drip. Drip.

But it is not mine.

A white robe of soft fleece wraps around my monsterness.

But it is not mine.

A hand held out in acceptance.

But it is not another monster.  It is a good, whole, pure, scarred hand.

I hesitate.  I am a monster after all.  I’d rather be damned than saved most days.

The hand takes mine.  It bleeds, covers and takes.  It accepts, changes and offers what I don’t have:

hope

hope in the scarred hand.

hope in the drops of blood.

hope in the white robe covering my monsterness.

The hand guides me to another room, a hall of mirrors.  He stands beside me and the reflection changes…

- Abby Jones

(There are days of clarity where our sin seems to haunt us.  Most days we are so used to our own sinfulness we only notice the “big” things.  But some days, some moments God pulls back the curtain and lets us see how everything we do is stained with selfishness, with hate, with murder deep down.  How even things which appear kind are not selfless.  Once in a while we see the monster we really are.  These are the moments I cling even more to Christ. )

Quote of the Weekend

This is a story that began long, long ago
I was a young oak tree in dark Missouri soil
And like all other saplings I  had dreams of growing
Strong and tall

But one day a rebel with a bullet in his chest
Hung his rifle on my limbs  and laid to rest
And there beside me as the blood soaked to my roots
The  soldier sang
A song of  grace

The heavy rifle bowed me over to the ground
Two years I stayed this way  until the rifle fell
And in this manner for a hundred years I grew
All  my dreams
Not meant to be

And then one day two men came with a cross  cut saw
They spoke of how my arch would hold a weight so strong
And I  feared not the blade for such a worthy cause
And so I fell
I gladly fell

Three winter days aboard a northbound train
Three more beneath the hewer’s  careful blade
And while he worked he praised my rich red grain
Perhaps  it was the soldier’s blood that day

Now I’m the wooden arch that holds a mighty bell
Three stocks before me cracked but I shall never fail
Up in  a tall cathedral high above my dreams
Of long ago

And on Sunday mornings when I hear that sweet refrain
I see the soldier’s face like it was  yesterday
Calling angels down from heaven with that hymn he softly sang
Of God’s good grace
- Elliot Park “The Soldier and the Oak”

(There is no YouTube link to this song or I would have included it.  It is a folky song and quite beautiful.  The reason I wish you could hear the song is that at the end of each stanza when it says “sang a song of grace” Amazing Grace plays intertwined with the song.  It is simple, amazing and beautiful.  It subconsciously plays the familiar notes bringing the song to mind in such a subtle manner.  The theme of grace and hope, of good growing out of blood is captured so beautifully in this song.  If you have ITunes, I think you can download it there.)

Quote of the Weekend

“This was not a killing camp, this was a starvation camp.  They starved people to death.  There’s nothing worse than that kind of starvation.  They were just skin and bones.  You couldn’t tell the dead from the living.  Some of them had fallen into the latrine pits – they couldn’t get up.  No energy.

There were lots of bodies they hadn’t gotten rid of by the time we got there.  They were stacked up, about seven or eight high.

Seeing this had an effect on everybody.  I wanted to stay drunk for the rest of my life.  There was nothing that could make me forget it.”

- Al Tarbell, Sergeant, United States Army, WW II (Brave Men, Gentle Heroes by Michael Takiff)

(We can never really grasp what our men and women go through who serve in the military, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. It’s important to remember the baggage they come home with, so that we can serve and honor them better.)

Quote of the Weekend

No amount of trust or Happy Thoughts could chase away the deep-seated fear.

Fear brought on by knowing what could happen.

What could and does happen in the night when evil men hunt.

How could any Happy Thought remove the knowledge of could?

Trust in being kept safe was broken by knowledge, for many are not kept safe.

Many are slain and many more will be.

Despair.

Struggle.

Frightened by knowledge.

No longer the innocent child.

But God.

But God, being kind and merciful, brought truth to the frightened heart.

His words reminded the fearful that these things were light and passing.

Even these terrifying hunters were not eternal.

Even passing through such pain is short term.

His words reminded the quaking heart that the soul is held in His mighty hand.  This soul will cross whole over the river and into the Celestial City.

Hope is renewed.

A true Happy Thought fed not by blind faith, shallow and fear-filled, but faithful truth which comforts and stills the racing heart.

Fear no nightly hunters, they do not live forever.  Safety is found in truth and truth is found in God and His word.  Fear nothing for He has gone on before and even now waits for me.

My heart is still as a child’s.

My hope is held fast.

My knowledge is bound not by could, but did.

- Abby Jones

(Twice in my life, I have had really terrifying nightmares….since growing up and moving out of my parents’ house.  When I was a kid, my Mom always told me to think happy thoughts and trust God.  As a kid this was really all it took to sooth my fear and make me sleep in peace.  Now that I’m much more aware of what really goes Bump in the night, I found it much harder to get my heart rate back down.  Until I remembered that even if the most horrible things I could think of happened to me – and believe me, I can imagine some really horrible things – they would only be temporary.  Salvation, heaven, Christ and his work and love are eternal.  There is hope and peace!)

Quote of the Weekend

She stole my heart and made me sing

She tore me limb from limb

I did not think that I could love

Or be loved that way again
Again,  again
How glad I was to be  myself

And use my heart once  more

How glad I was to be a  man

And love that girl that I  adore
Adore.
Well my eyes shall see light again

And my heart shall bleed right  again

Oh my eyes shall see light  again

And my heart shall bleed  right again
- Banjolin Song by Mumford and Sons

(I have to admit that this song kinda gave me the creeps….I felt like it was a song written to me by one of my characters at the end of his story….I can be rather nasty to my characters.)

Quote of the Weekend

“Sheets are swaying from an old clothesline
Like a row of captured ghosts over old dead grass
Was never much but we made the most
Welcome home.”

 - Radical Face “Welcome Home”

(I love the imagery of the ghost and the old clothesline.  Beautiful!)

Quote of the Weekend

And in that time

When men decide and feel safe

To call the war insane,

Take one moment to embrace

Those gentle heroes

You left behind.

 - Major Michael Davis O’Donnell, First Aviation Brigade, Dak To, Vietnam

From a poem written January 1, 1970.  March 24 Michael O’Donnell was killed in action.

(Beautiful and sad.)

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