John Quotes
humans lack good mirrors. It's so hard for anyone to show us how we look, and so hard for us to show anyone how we feel
...that's the essence of me - I don't think, I feel - at best, I think-feel...
...you were there when they trampled me - you picked me up, healed me and gave me back my feelings - is it any wonder I love you?...
...the feelings that pass between us are deeper than fleshly touches...
...you want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you’re wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don’t seem to care...
Shalt thou give law to God, shalt thou disputeWith Him the points of liberty who madeThee what thou art and formed the pow'rs of Heav'nSuch as He pleased and circumscribed their being?
I count myself as one of the number of those who learn as they write and write as they learn.
Pride is no respecter of persons. The serious thinkers may be humble, and the careless mystics may be arrogant.
The difficulty lies not so much in developing new ideas as in escaping from old ones.
Caught in a terrible cycle, I was thinking about what I thought about my own thoughts, so I went to the bar where I got myself a glass of water.
Throughout history, only a small number of people have done the serious thinking for everybody.
Knowing and thinking exist for the sake of love -- for the sake of building people up in faith. Thinking that produces pride instead of love is not true thinking.
The humility of wisdom is the happy consciousness that all things come from God, are sustained by God, and exist for God. This wisdom is rooted in the pride-destroying, joy-giving cross of Christ.
We fill too many gutters while we argue unimportant points and confuse issues.
You must thrive to flood the nose and mouth of those who hate you and can't wait to see you fail.
In real life, love and hate are often only separable if we’re willing to recognize our demons and choose to become better people.
I hated sports. I hated sports, and I hated people who played them, and I hated people who watched them, and Ihated people who didn't hate people who watched or played them.
They love without measure those whom they will soon hate without reason.
Morality divorced from the doctrines of the gospel is not that holiness which the gospel requires.
And the moral of the story is that you don’t remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.
Memory Lane always seems to be under reconstruction.
...we live in the same city but don't see the same things - you see buildings and I see memories...
...everything is gone except traces of you inside me - and the years like the wind are sweeping those away ...
...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...
...spiritual or emotional pain doesn't become a memory so much as a bruise ...
...everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous - to be reminded of how they once saw the world ...
...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...
...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...
...before you, life was desolate - the past hardly worth remembering - and now, each moment a keepsake I can't throw away ...
...every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory?...
Always look within, to seek out the love and joy residing inside of you and then look to find your dark shadows falling behind you disappear.
Part of what makes us human is what we mean to other people, and what people mean to us. I miss meaning something to someone, having that part of being human.
On some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are.
The artist says to the cosmos: All I ask is infinite love-is that so very wrong? And the cosmos doesn't even bother to respond.
Whether we fall by ambition, blood or lustLike diamonds, we are cut with our own dust
And, in the darkness, David closed his eyes as all that was lost was found again.
Thomas Edison’s last words were ‘It’s very beautiful over there’. I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful
...I remember the oily smoke of a cigarette suspended in a shaft of sunlight - with you, everything was beautiful...
...I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...
If a man asks me for my loyalty...I will give him my honesty.If a man asks me for my honesty...I will give him my loyalty!