Best 90 quotes in «saints quotes» category

I used to wonder how a man working for the saintly organization of the saintly Dr. King could find himself in such a sinful place. But I'm no saint although I'm a good Christian, and even the best Christians are more familiar with sinners than saints.

I've lived all these years among those who create nothing and change nothing,' I said. 'Actors and musicians-they're saints to me.

Looking out the window of a large women's monastery after Divine Liturgy, my friend saw a few nuns walking toward the woods with satchels on their backs. Inquiring who they were, she was told they were ascetics who lived in the wilderness and had come to the monastery to attend Liturgy and to receive some food. Although we are much weaker in our times and far less ascetical than the early desert fathers and mothers, let it never be said that extreme Christian asceticism is extinct. Who knows how many St. Mary of Egypts are hidden in the wilderness?

Mijn vader huilde nooit. Als hij bedroefd was, liep hij naar de tempel van de onbekende heilige. Daar knielde hij naast het graf, tikte zachtjes met een steentje tegen de grafsteen, praatte met de heilige en als hij zich weer beter voelde, wandelde hij terug naar huis.

I walked through centuries after centuries in the bodily vessels of countless monks and philosophers, and still my work is not done - it is far from done. I still have a long way to go with my heart bleeding in agony and my feet burning and trembling in tiredness, but still I shall not stop till every single human on earth realizes in the very core of their being that they are humans above everything else, and to achieve this, if I have to go through the heartache of loneliness and the mortal misery of social indifference and mockery over and over again in countless more lives to come, I shall most willingly do so.

One cannot conclude that there are no great saints just because no great miracles are worked. The true estimate of life, after all, lies in acts of virtue, not in the display of miracles. There are many, Peter, who without performing miracles, are not at all inferior to those who perform them.

One does not cross-examine a saint.

Only God knows the good that can come about by reading one good Catholic book.” — St. John Bosco

None of us are saints. We can all do better.

Only the poet or the saint can water an asphalt pavement in the confident anticipation that lilies will reward his labour.

Many people genuinely do not wish to be saints, and it is possible that some who achieve or aspire to sainthood have never had much temptation to be human beings.

Politicians and figureheads bank on the amnesia of the ignorant.

Serve in the grace of strength within thy soul.

Poetry is the last refuge of saints and scoundrels, and the only place where telling which is which becomes almost impossible.

She's no angel. He's no saint.

Salvada el alma todo está a salvo, perdida el alma todo está perdido y perdido para siempre”. San Antonio M. Claret "Saved the soul, everything is saved; lost the soul, everything is lost, and lost forever". Saint Anthony M. Claret Visit my web: nodesnirecibaslacomunionenlamano.blogspot.com Muy pocos se salvan, ¿te salvarás tu? Very few are saved, will you be saved?

Shahidi mwaminifu na wa kweli anayajua mambo yetu yote tangu kuumbwa hadi mwisho wa dunia yetu. Kwa hiyo, ni kweli unabii lazima utimie. Mungu anataka tuwe na amani ndani ya mioyo yetu lakini anajua si jambo rahisi kwa sababu ya hila za Shetani. Shetani asingekuwepo amani ingekuwepo; watakatifu wasingekuwepo, dunia isingekuwepo. Lakini mlango wa rehema bado haujafungwa. Bado tuna uhuru wa kuchagua mema dhidi ya mabaya.

Tell me, son... have you ever been intimidated by anyone?' 'Oh yes,' said Thomas. 'I don't believe it. By whom?' 'By Our Lord... on the altar.

Someday I want to go back to San Felipe de Jesus and find the Jesus in that place. Someday I want to trap myself in those washboard towns, Aconchi, Magdalena; I want to meet their saints someday. I would ask them if they have ever been in love. I don't mean the syrup they lay on you in the media. I mean the meat of love, the hardness of it, the ice water that wakes you up into the heat of day. The Mexico of love, with rocks, pickup trucks, fat men and sugary children. Cock-sure, moonlit tequila, sweet lime, metallic bed for secret touching. Did they ever reach that side of life? Those mealy saints with their crosses on their backs, did they have enough stomach for the midnight lunch of love?

The assembly (ekklesia) is the family -- the household -- of God. The Lord Jesus is the only one with absolute authority, and He is the chief feeder of all the saints. Therefore, as brothers and sisters in the same family, everyone is equal in status, but some may be relatively ahead of others in life experiences and knowledge

The deepest reason why the Church is weak and the world is dying is that there are not enough saints. No, that's not quite honest. The reason is that WE are not saints.

The faithful clamoured to be buried alongside the martyrs, as close as possible to the venerable remains, a custom which, in anthropological terms, recalls Neolithic beliefs that certain human remains possessed supernatural properties. It was believed that canonized saints did not rot, like lesser mortals, but that their corpses were miraculously preserved and emanated an odour of sanctity, a sweet, floral smell, for years after death. In forensic terms, such preservation is likely to be a result of natural mummification in hot, dry conditions.

...The life of the parents is the only thing that makes good children. Parents should be very patient and ‘saintlike’ to their children. They should truly love their children. And the children will share this love! For the bad attitude of the children, says father Porphyrios, the ones who are usually responsible for it are their parents themselves. The parents don’t help their children by lecturing them and repeating to them ‘advices’, or by making them obeying strict rules in order to impose discipline. If the parents do not become ‘saints’ and truly love their children and if they don’t struggle for it, then they make a huge mistake. With their wrong and/or negative attitude the parents convey to their children their negative feelings. Then their children become reactive and insecure not only to their home, but to the society as well...

The good heart that prays for the end of others suffering ends its own suffering with such prayers. Send out your blessings to family, friends, colleagues, strangers on the street. A saint acts compassionately not because she is a saint. Rather, her compassionate acts make her a saint.

The lives of the saints are the hermeneutical key to Scripture.

The only person to influence the direction and purpose of your life is the one who gave it. God!

The pavement artist thought for a bit, then agreed. 'I can start tomorrow morning.' 'Good, good. But one question. Will you be able to draw enough to cover 300 feet? I mean, do you know enough different gods to fill the whole wall?' The artist smiled. 'There is no difficulty. I can cover 300 miles if necessary. Using assorted religions and their gods, saints, and prophets. Hindu, Sikh, Judaic, Christian, Muslim, Zoroastrian, Buddhist, Jainist. Actually, Hinduism alone can produce enough. But I always like to mix them up, include a variety in my drawings. Makes me feel I am doing something to promote tolerance and understanding in the world.

...the institutional church, which exists to serve the people of God, is never to be confused with the church as mystery - the Christ-centered, biblically faithful, tender, and compassionate cloud of witnesses who walk the talk.

There is nothing to unify God and the soul but the Cross.

There is only one misery . . . not to be saints.

St. Triduana devoted herself to God in a solitary life at Rescobie in Angus (now Forfarshire). While dwelling there, a prince of the country having conceived an unlawful passion for her is said to have pursued her with his unwelcome attentions. To rid herself of his importunities, as a legend relates, Triduana bravely plucked out her beautiful eyes, her chief attraction, and sent them to her admirer. Her heroism, it is said, procured for her the power of curing diseases of the eyes.

The pages of history are red with the blood of illuminated "saints" who were murdered by their religions for actually achieving the advertised spiritual rewards.

The problem with the world today is that there are too many assholes and not enough saints.

The saints do not contemplate in order to know, but to love. And they love not for the sake of loving but for the love of Him that they love. It is because they are in love with God that they aspire to that union with God which love desires, loving themselves only for his sake. Their aim is not to exult in their own intelligence or nature and so abide in themselves: it is to do the will of Another and contribute to the good of Goodness. They do not seek for their soul. They lose it, they have it no more. If in entering into the mystery of divine sonship, in becoming somewhat of God himself they gain a transcendent personality, an independence and a liberty which nothing in this world can touch it is by forgetting all this so that not they but their Beloved lives in them.

The saints are in heaven, not in wood. —De morbis ex incantationibus et impressionibus

The world is essentially bipolar: driven to extremes but defined by flux. Saints are always just a stumble away from sinners. Nothing is absolute, not even death

There is more hope in honest brokenness than in the pretense of false wholeness.

U Bazelu, u Švicarskoj, zaustavili su se u jednom javnom svratištu da steknu novu snagu. Tu su svojim očima mogli vidjeti jadno vjersko stanje koje su prouzročili protestantski reformatori: profanirane crkve, razbijene kipove; ljude su pokapali na otvorenim poljima i bez vjerskih obreda, a lakomci su punili svoje džepove prodavajući dragocjenosti i umjetnine koje su pokrali u crkvama.

Those members who are more gifted have a job: to equip and encourage the less gifted believers to do the work of building up. Today's system of clergy and laity, where a few believers do all the teaching and preaching but the majority stay passive year after years has not (and does not) equip believers to do what the clergies are doing; therefore they cannot build up the body of Christ. What should happen is that after receiving the equipping from the more gifted ministers, all of those saints would go and preach the gospel, teach the truth, and meet in fellowship with all other believers themselves. This would directly build up the body of Christ.

U slučaju kad nije mogao udovoljiti zahtjevu, rastumačio bi razlog tako strpljivo i iskreno da bi onaj koji je bio odbijen ostao uvjeren u Ignacijevu dobru volju i poteškoće koje će nastati ako mu udovolji molbi.

Wanasayansi wanaamini kuwa Yesu atarudi tarehe 29 Julai 2016. Tarehe hiyo kitu kikubwa sana kitatokea katika dunia yetu kitakachosababisha tetemeko kubwa la ardhi, litakalosababishwa na kubadilika kwa ncha za dunia, tendo litakalosababisha mionzi ya gama kutoka kwenye jua ifike duniani na kuua kila kitu kinachoonekana katika uso wa dunia hii. Watakatifu watafufuka na kumlaki Kristo mawinguni, ambaye anakuja kuwachukua wateule na kumweka Shetani kifungoni kwa miaka 1000. Hayo yote, wanasema, yatatokea ndani ya siku 11 kuanzia leo. Yaani, kusini mwa dunia kutakuwa kaskazini mwa dunia, kaskazini mwa dunia kutakuwa kusini mwa dunia. Kitendo hicho kitafanya dunia ikose kinga ya sumaku iitwayo ‘magnetosphere’ ambayo hukinga dunia dhidi ya mionzi ya gama kutoka kwenye jua. Mionzi hiyo hugonga ukuta wa ‘magnetosphere’ kila baada ya dakika 8 kwa mwendokasi wa kilometa milioni 1080 kwa saa; na kusambazwa katika ncha za dunia ambapo aghalabu huchanganyikana na oksijeni na kutengeneza kitu kinaitwa ‘aurora’, au mwanga wa ncha, ambacho ni maajabu mengine ya angani. Mwaka 2012 wanasayansi walisema ncha za dunia zingebadilika lakini hazikubadilika. Je, muda umefika sasa wa kuwaamini wanasayansi? Biblia ni chuo cha Mungu. Soma Biblia kupata maarifa.

Watakatifu wote watanyanyuliwa na wataondoka pamoja na Yesu kuelekea mbinguni, kwa ajili ya ziara ya miaka 1000 katika ulimwengu wa roho; kuanzia dunia ya kwanza ya ulimwengu huo iitwayo Asiyah hadi ya mwisho iitwayo Adam Kadmon, katika mji mpya wa Yerusalemu. Baada ya milenia, kipindi hicho huku duniani Ibilisi akiwa kifungoni na malaika wake, binadamu wote wenye dhambi wakiwa wamekufa, Yesu na watakatifu wote atarudi kwa ajili ya ufufuo wa pili; na kama mfalme wa ulimwengu wote milele.

We are moved by self-interest, even when we seek to do good to others.

To be a servant of the Saviour is the sacred service.

What Saint has ever won his crown without first contending for it?

What's that you're doing, Sassenach?" "Making out little Gizmo's birth certificate--so far as I can," I added. "Gizmo?" he said doubtfully. "That will be a saint's name?" "I shouldn't think so, though you never know, what with people named Pantaleon and Onuphrius. Or Ferreolus." "Ferreolus? I dinna think I ken that one." He leaned back, hands linked over his knee. "One of my favorites," I told him, carefully filling in the birthdate and time of birth--even that was an estimate, poor thing. There were precisely two bits of unequivocal information on this birth certificate--the date and the name of the doctor who's delivered him. "Ferreolus," I went on with some new enjoyment, "is the patron saint of sick poultry. Christian martyr. He was a Roman tribune and a secret Christian. Having been found out, he was chained up in the prison cesspool to await trial--I suppose the cells must have been full. Sounds rather daredevil; he slipped his chains and escaped through the sewer. They caught up with him, though, dragged him back and beheaded him." Jamie looked blank. "What has that got to do wi' chickens?" "I haven't the faintest idea. Take it up with the Vatican," I advised him. "Mmphm. Aye, well, I've always been fond of Saint Guignole, myself." I could see the glint in his eye, but couldn't resist. "And what's he the patron of?" "He's involved against impotence." The glint got stronger. "I saw a statue of him in Brest once; they did say it had been there for a thousand years. 'Twas a miraculous statue--it had a cock like a gun muzzle, and--" "A what?" "Well, the size wasna the miraculous bit," he said, waving me to silence. "Or not quite. The townsfolk say that for a thousand years, folk have whittled away bits of it as holy relics, and yet the cock is still as big as ever." He grinned at me. "They do say that a man w' a bit of St. Guignole in his pocket can last a night and a day without tiring." "Not with the same woman, I don't imagine," I said dryly. "It does rather make you wonder what he did to merit sainthood, though, doesn't it?" He laughed. "Any man who's had his prayer answered could tell yet that, Sassenach." (PP. 841-842)

When Abbess Ebba received tidings of the near approach of the pagan hordes, who had already wrecked vengeance upon ecclesiastics, monks, and consecrated virgins, she summoned her nuns to Chapter, and in a moving discourse exhorted them to preserve at any cost the treasure of their chastity. Then seizing a razor, and calling upon her daughters to follow her heroic example, she mutilated her face in order to inspire the barbarian invaders with horror at the sight. The nuns without exception courageously followed the example of their abbess. When the Danes broke into the cloister and saw the nuns with faces thus disfigured, they fled in panic. Their leaders, burning with rage, sent back some of their number to set fire to the monastery, and thus the heroic martyrs perished in the common ruin of their house.

[W]henever the masses were let into the Church, the spiritual giants, the saints, fled to the desert.

Who can we claim to know God, and deny him by our actions.

When the book Lean In came out, urging women to step up their leadership in professional life, my initial response was, Oh brother! Women are already doing everything—now we also have to lean in? But all the talk about leaning in got me thinking about women who have had tremendous effects on this world and yet, like so many, haven’t gotten their due. I decided to adopt a hobby: Wherever I was lucky enough to travel, if a shrine dedicated to a female saint was nearby, I would take myself there and make of it what I could. From my grandfather Cassidy’s side of the family, my Catholic heritage goes back more than a thousand years. That is not an easy ship to jump from when the waters get rough, which they have been lately. In turning my eyes toward the women saints, I have found some fun, a lightness to the landscape where questions sprout everywhere—questions such as: So her body hasn’t decomposed? And she did what? With no money? And everybody said, no, no, no to her, but she did it anyway?