Children learn more from what you are than what you teach.— W. E. B. Du Bois
Courageous Love Torture quotations
Your mind will always believe everything you tell it. Feed it hope. Feed it truth. Feed it with love.
If I were to meet the slave-traders who kidnapped me and even those who tortured me, I would kneel and kiss their hands, for if that did not happen, I would not be a Christian and Religious today... The Lord has loved me so much: we must love everyone... we must be compassionate!
The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference.
Indifference creates evil. Hatred is evil itself. Indifference is what allows evil to be strong, what gives it power.
The secret to living well and longer is: eat half, walk double, laugh triple and love without measure.
If cows, pigs, chickens and turkeys go into slaughterhouses alive and come out chopped up into hundreds of pieces, how could anyone claim that animals aren't being mistreated, abused, tortured, terrorized and savagely murdered in these places? How in the world could SLAUGHTERING BILLIONS of INNOCENTS be done with love, humanity and concern?
Families are about love overcoming emotional torture.
My imagination completely controls me, and forever feeds the fire that burns with dark red light in my heart by bringing me the best dreams. I've always had a wild imagination, a big heart and a tortured soul so I feel that dark fantasy, love and horror are in my blood.
Everyone comes with baggage. Find someone who loves you enough to help you unpack.
The most conspicuous thing about suffering is, as W.
H. Auden once observed, its banality. The day is green, the sun is shinging, someone is eating, or opening a window, the torturer's horse is scatching its innocent behind on a tree, and in a mere second someone we love is dead.
There is no trick of a magician or spell of a witch doctor, no drug or mesmerism or bribery or torture or coercion that can compare in power with the force for change unleashed in the human breast through the touch of love.
The Ministry of Peace concerns itself with war, the Ministry of Truth with lies, the Ministry of Love with torture and the Ministry of Plenty with starvation. These contradictions are not accidental , nor do they result from from ordinary hypocrisy: they are deliberate exercises in doublethink
How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
Men do not accept their prophets and slay them, but they love their martyrs and worship those whom they have tortured to death.
Do not let arguments of expediency persuade you.
That is the slow road to oblivion. That is the tortured path to undoing step by step, bit by bit, as the river creates a canyon, the way of life that we love.
There was a time when I didn’t at any minute have the slightest idea how I could reach the next one. Yes, one can wage war in this world, ape love, torture one’s fellow man, or merely say evil of one’s neighbour while knitting. But, in certain cases, carrying on, merely continuing, is superhuman.
I hope to arrive to my death, late, in love and a little drunk.
I cannot love anyone if I hate myself.
That is the reason why we feel so extremely uncomfortable in the presence of people who are noted for their special virtuousness, for they radiate an atmosphere of the torture they inflict on themselves. That is not a virtue but a vice.
Love is a reciprocal torture.
If I can't enjoy the full and total happiness of love, then I want to drain its torments, its tortures to the dregs; then I want the woman I love to mistreat me, betray me, and the more cruelly the better. That too is a pleasure.
To love a person is to see all of their magic, and to remind them of it when they have forgotten.
If in my youth I had realized that the sustaining splendour of beauty of with which I was in love would one day flood back into my heart, there to ignite a flame that would torture me without end, how gladly would I have put out the light in my eyes.
Animals are sentient creatures. I love them very much. I do not feel that we have the right to torture, murder, and abuse them for our own disgusting dietary and fashion wants and needs.
Divine love, agape, is self-sacrificing love, which sounds difficult, as it is, and not very attractive. If the best image we have of love is of a man who's been tortured and hung upon a cross to die an excruciating death, this is something that human beings find very, very hard to understand as love. But it is the highest Christian image of love.
Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.
It was in prison that we found the hope of salvation for the Communists.
It was there that we developed a sense of responsibility toward them. It was in being tortured by them that we learned to love them.
The male, for all his bravado and exploration, is the loyal one, the one who generally feels love. The female is skilled at betrayal and torture and damnation.
In Christianity, it's very clear that the god we worship is equal to love.
The bible says, 'God is love'. The god we worship was sacrificed, crucified on the cross, tortured, spit on, and was still forgiving. This is our highest example.
Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.
When the one you love is in love with someone else, don't you know it's torture, I mean it's living hell.
Animals do feel like us, also joy, love, fear and pain but they cannot grasp the spoken word. It is our obligation to take their part and continue to resist the people who profit by them, who slaughter them and who torture them.
To attempt the destruction of our passions is the height of folly.
What a noble aim is that of the zealot who tortures himself like a madman in order to desire nothing, love nothing, feel nothing, and who, if he succeeded, would end up a complete monster!
Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who love beyond all faults, cry behind closed doors and fight battles that nobody knows about.
Central to everything I am and believe and have written is my astonishment, naive as it seems to people, that you can use human speech both to bless, to love, to build, to forgive and also to torture, to hate, to destroy and to annihilate.
Love doesn't happen in an instant. It creeps up on you and then it turns your life upside-down. It colours your waking moments and fills your dreams. You begin to walk on air and see life in brilliant new shades. But it also brings with it a sweet agony, a delicious torture.
Jealousy would be far less torturous if we understood that love is a passion entirely unrelated to our merits.
Two things you will never have to chase: true friends and true love.
I loathe the urchin's cruelty to the cat, but I will not loathe the urchin.
I loathe Hitler's mass-torturing, but not Hitler; and the money-man's heartlessness, but not the man. I love the swallow's flight, and I love the swallow; the urchin's gleam of tenderness, and the urchin.
Our schoolbooks glorify war and conceal its horrors.
They indoctrinate children with hatred. I would teach peace rather than war, love rather than hate.
There is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.
If I cut you off chances are you handed me the scissors.
My stories are of gas chambers, shootings, electrified fences, torture, scorching sun, mental abuse, and constant threat of death. But they are also stories of faith, hope, triumph, and love. They are stories of perseverance, loyalty, courage in the face of overwhelming odds, and of never giving up!
If I don't write to empty my mind, I go mad.
As to that regular, uninterrupted love of writing. I do not understand it. I feel it as a torture, which I must get rid of, but never as a pleasure. On the contrary, I think composition a great pain.
I had a confusing relationship with my Barbies, but I love trolls. I tortured my Barbies.
Yet it is awful to love a person who is a torture to you.
And a fascinating person who loves you and won't hear of anything but your loving him and living right by his side through all eternity!
Senseless is the breast and cold Which relenting love would fold;
Bloodless are the veins and chill Which the pulse of pain did fill; Every little living nerve That from bitter words did swerve Round the tortur'd lips and brow, Are like sapless leaflets now Frozen upon December's bough.