Best 314 quotes in «confession quotes» category

You said just now, "Don't be so ashamed of yourself, because that's the root of your trouble"––with those words, you seem to have reached right into my innermost soul. What I mean is, when I visit people, I always feel that I'm really the lowest of the low, that everybody takes me for a buffoon, so I say to myself, why shouldn't I act the fool, I'm not afraid of what any of you might think, because every single one of you is even worse than me. That's why I'm a buffoon, I'm a buffoon born of shame, great starets, of shame. It's anxiety pure and simple that makes me so unruly.

You speak as if you envied him." "And I do envy him, Emma. In one respect he is the object of my envy." Emma could say no more. They seemed to be within half a sentence of Harriet, and her immediate feeling was to avert the subject, if possible. She made her plan; she would speak of something totally different—the children in Brunswick Square; and she only waited for breath to begin, when Mr. Knightley startled her, by saying, "You will not ask me what is the point of envy.—You are determined, I see, to have no curiosity.—You are wise—but I cannot be wise. Emma, I must tell you what you will not ask, though I may wish it unsaid the next moment." "Oh! then, don't speak it, don't speak it," she eagerly cried. "Take a little time, consider, do not commit yourself." "Thank you," said he, in an accent of deep mortification, and not another syllable followed. Emma could not bear to give him pain. He was wishing to confide in her—perhaps to consult her;—cost her what it would, she would listen. She might assist his resolution, or reconcile him to it; she might give just praise to Harriet, or, by representing to him his own independence, relieve him from that state of indecision, which must be more intolerable than any alternative to such a mind as his.—They had reached the house. "You are going in, I suppose?" said he. "No,"—replied Emma—quite confirmed by the depressed manner in which he still spoke—"I should like to take another turn. Mr. Perry is not gone." And, after proceeding a few steps, she added—"I stopped you ungraciously, just now, Mr. Knightley, and, I am afraid, gave you pain.—But if you have any wish to speak openly to me as a friend, or to ask my opinion of any thing that you may have in contemplation—as a friend, indeed, you may command me.—I will hear whatever you like. I will tell you exactly what I think." "As a friend!"—repeated Mr. Knightley.—"Emma, that I fear is a word—No, I have no wish—Stay, yes, why should I hesitate?—I have gone too far already for concealment.—Emma, I accept your offer—Extraordinary as it may seem, I accept it, and refer myself to you as a friend.—Tell me, then, have I no chance of ever succeeding?" He stopped in his earnestness to look the question, and the expression of his eyes overpowered her. "My dearest Emma," said he, "for dearest you will always be, whatever the event of this hour's conversation, my dearest, most beloved Emma—tell me at once. Say 'No,' if it is to be said."—She could really say nothing.—"You are silent," he cried, with great animation; "absolutely silent! at present I ask no more." Emma was almost ready to sink under the agitation of this moment. The dread of being awakened from the happiest dream, was perhaps the most prominent feeling. "I cannot make speeches, Emma:" he soon resumed; and in a tone of such sincere, decided, intelligible tenderness as was tolerably convincing.—"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.—You hear nothing but truth from me.—I have blamed you, and lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it.—Bear with the truths I would tell you now, dearest Emma, as well as you have borne with them. The manner, perhaps, may have as little to recommend them. God knows, I have been a very indifferent lover.—But you understand me.—Yes, you see, you understand my feelings—and will return them if you can. At present, I ask only to hear, once to hear your voice.

Certainly, I signed a statement that I killed two and a half million Jews. But I could just as well have said that it was five million Jews. There are certain methods by which any confession can be obtained, whether it is true or not.

Ask Jesus to make you a saint. After all, only He can do that. Go to confession regularly and to Communion as often as you can

A true inner world is often revealed by style and sensibility as much as by what appears to be confession.

A kiss, when all is said, what is it? An oath that's given closer than before; A promise more precise; the sealing of Confessions that till then were barely breathed; A rosy dot placed on the i in loving.

All confessions are Odysseys.

A poem is a private story, after all, no matter how apparently public. The reader is always overhearing a confession.

Confession is the sacrament of the tenderness of God, his way of embracing us.

Concealment makes the soul a swamp. Confession is how you drain it.

Confession is good for the conscience, but it usually bypasses the soul.

Confession basically means saying the same thing about your sin as God says. So if you say you want to develop integrity, but you're not willing to face the rough parts and confess them, you won't get there.

Confession is a sacred rite enhanced by allegory, exaggeration, and lies.

Confession is good for the soul only in the sense that a tweed coat is good for dandruff - it is a palliative rather than a remedy.

Confession of our faults is the next thing to innocence.

Confession can be good for the soul, but it can exact a heavy toll on friendships.

Confession makes you a more trustworthy narrator.

Confession of sin shows us more clearly our need of mercy-and endears God's mercy more to us

Confession may well be a dirty word in poetry.

Confession of one's guilt purifies and uplifts. Its suppression is degrading and should always be avoided.

Confessions are like tattoos in that 1) You convince yourself that the immediate pain of going through the process means it won't bother you later on; 2) They are permanent.

Confession without repentance is just bragging.

Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what's past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker.

confession ran in the family.

Don't be afraid to go to the Sacrament of Confession, where you will meet Jesus who forgives you.

Do not spread the compost on the weeds.

Every Catholic is one good Confession away from potential sainthood.

Every conceivable cruel method of blackmail was used against me to obtain by force and at all costs confessions and statements both about comrades who had been arrested, and about political activities.

Gossip is always a personal confession either of malice or imbecility.

Everything dictated silence and self-control but I couldn't restrain myself and spoke my mind.

every smart / Is eased in telling.

For a successful season of prayer, the best beginning is confession.

Gradually it has become clear to me what every great philosophy so far has been: namely, the personal confession of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.

Holy Week is a good occasion to go to confession and to take up the right path again.

Here's a confession: I hate parenting books. I hate the ones that are earnest and repetitive.

Here then, as I lay down the pen and proceed to seal up my confession, I bring the life of that unhappy Henry Jekyll to an end.

I claim not to have controlled events, but confess plainly that events have controlled me.

If every time you engage in a sex act, you go into a confession box, you will never accept your own sexuality.

I do seem to favor a deathbed confession as the occasion for my dramatic monologues.

I had to make a confession of faith in stone. That was the beginning of the tower, the house I built for myself at Bollingen.

If you would know whether you have made a good confession, ask yourself I you have resolved to abandon your sins.

If the church is to be faithful it must be formed andordered from the inside of its experience and confession and not by borrowing from sources extenal to its own life.

I have no interest in writing confessions, in deliberately baring myself to my readers. I prefer to remain behind a screen.

I have heard thousands of confessions, but never one of covetousness.

I have replaced my instinct for secrecy with an instinct for confession.

I own the soft impeachment.

I honestly love [my fans] so much. [Their] support is everything and I'm glad [they] liked [my confession].

I'm a confession that is waiting to be heard

In Confession, Jesus welcomes us with all our sinfulness, to give us a new heart, capable of loving as he loves.

Indeed, these errors and my prompt confessions have made me surer, if possible, of my insight into the implications of truth and ahimsa.