John Buchan Quotes
Oh, I agree he went mad in the end. It is the only explanation. Something must have snapped in that fine brain, and he saw the little bit more which we call madness. Thank God, you and I are prosaic fellows...
Quotes to Explore
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One thing that helps to stretch me is to listen to other preacher's sermons. Every year, I will listen to at least ten other preachers, both to hear God speak to me, and also to evaluate their preaching to see what I can learn and how I can improve my own preaching.
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It is not God's will merely that we should be happy, but that we should make ourselves happy.
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I think you have to learn for yourself how to write. I'm slightly mystified by creative writing courses - God love them - because I can't understand how you can explain a process that I find so baffling.
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I really believed that my songs were good enough for the whole world to listen to. I had fans from America or the U.K. who would be like, 'Oh my God, I love your music'.
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Calling a taxi in Texas is like calling a rabbi in Iraq.
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Thank God we're not like America. Everyone wants to look like they're 20. In Europe we admire grown-up women; I think men revere older women.
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Every child is a thought in the mind of God, and our task is to recognize this thought and help it toward completion.
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Learn about the world, the way it works, any kind of science and anthropology, it's really an interesting place we live in. Evolution is a really fantastic idea, even more than the idea of God I think.
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If God should desire to raise us to the position of one who is an intimate and shares his secrets, we ought to accept this gladly.
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All my life, people have asked me what I was so mad about. 'Why you so mad?' And I was never mad. I'm not mad, I just look mad.
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God the Father and God the Son cannot be everywhere present; indeed they cannot be even in two places at the same instant: but God the Holy Spirit is omnipresent - it extends through all space, with all other matter.
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The more one listens to ordinary conversations the more apparent it becomes that the reasoning faculties of the brain take little part in the direction of the vocal organs.
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Science fiction is trying to find alternative ways of looking at realities.
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I don't believe in ghosts and have never seen one. I wish I could see one, and I would like to have seen one because then I could believe in God. If I can see it, feel it and taste it, then I believe in it.
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God is not anything human. God is a force, God is chaos, God is unknown. God is terror and enlightenment at the same time.
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Prayer is commission. Out of the quietness with God, power is generated that turns the spiritual machinery of the world. When you pray, you begin to feel the sense of being sent, that the divine compulsion is upon you.
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And now may the blessing of God rest upon all men. I have told unto them the Epic of Kings, and the Epic of Kings is come to a close, and the tale of their deeds is ended.
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The purest joy for the human spirit and the sheerest delight for man's heart are the rapture of the spirit contained within the love of God.
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Sin penetrates to the heart, darkens and hardens it until it extinguishes the light of belief. Each sin has a path that leads to unbelief. Unless that sin is swiftly obliterated by seeking God's forgiveness, it grows from a worm into a snake that gnaws at the heart.
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I have trashed the to-do list. To help my brain...
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A slavish bondage to parents cramps every faculty of the mind.
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The spiritual journey, the path of recovery and personal growth, is a detoxification process in which we bring up and out the negative beliefs we have carried with us from the past and that now poison the present.
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...for me the only way I can thank God for his ever-present creation is to offer him a new music impressed of a beauty which nobody had previously understood .... the music we play is one long prayer, a message coming from God
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Oh, I agree he went mad in the end. It is the only explanation. Something must have snapped in that fine brain, and he saw the little bit more which we call madness. Thank God, you and I are prosaic fellows...
