A censure would put an indelible scar on the president's place in history, .. Monica Lewinsky is not Watergate. Let he who has no sin in this chamber cast the first stone.
I look at ordinary people in their suits, them with no scars, and I'm different. I don't fit with them. I'm where everybody's got scar tissue on their eyes and got noses like saddles. I go to conventions of old fighters like me and I see the scar tissue and all them flat noses and it's beautiful. ... They talk like me, like they got rocks in their throats. Beautiful!
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seamed with scars; martyrs have put on their coronation robes glittering with fire, and through their tears have the sorrowful first seen the gates of Heaven.
Victory is freedom of mind and body.' I believe that is true. I would go further and say that victory is freedom of mind from body. Separation from the thing that imprisons us. Flight. Perhaps freedom from life itself. That is victory. Life is brutal. It is like this whip and these ropes. It hurts. It scars. But we must take it.
My scars are numerous, my flesh is powerless, my enemy is dangerous, but my God is glorious and His grace is totally sufficient.
A rich man's body is like a premium cotton pillow, white and soft and blank. ''Ours'' is different. My father's spine was a knotted rope, the kind that women use in villages to pull water from wells; the clavicle curved around his neck in high relief, like a dog's collar; cuts and nicks and scars, like little whip marks in his flesh, ran down his chest and waist, reaching down below his hip bones into his buttocks. The story of a poor man's life is written on his body, in a sharp pen.
War is devastating, and it leaves its scars for generations.
Brilliant minds make errors, brave souls falter, kind hearts leave scars. We are none of us perfect, but we're all perfectly human.
Most of my scars are not fire-related and I no longer say "I know what I am doing" at critical moments.
He who dares to speak with a razor sharp tongue, shall in end, bare the final scar.
Where are the marks of the cross in your life? Are there any points of identification with your Lord? Alas, too many Christians wear medals but carry no scars.
I do have a few little tattoos, but they were mostly done to cover scars because I'm so fair.
On my left knee I have a long scar from an ACL operation. I've had both knees reconstructed.
Come, drink the mystic wine of Night, Brimming with silence and the stars; While earth, bathed in this holy light, Is seen without its scars.
To tell a falsehood is like the cut of a saber: for though the wound may heal, the scar of it will remain.
A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.
And I have to admit that there is something undeniably fulfilling about hunting with Rosie. Somehow, it makes me feel as if the long list of differences between us doesn't exist. We're dressed the same, we fight the same enemy, we win together ... It's as though for that moment I get to be her, the one who isn't covered in thick scars, and she gets to understand what it is to be me. It's different than hunting with Silas-he and I are partners, not part of the same heart.
I would expect another Scars album before another System album.
Christ's resurrection not only gives you hope for the future; it gives you hope to handle your scars right now.
Tell Youth to play with Wine and Love and never bear away the scars! I may as well tilt up the sky and yet try not to spill the stars.
New York, home of the vivisectors of the mind, and of the mentally vivisected still to be reassembled, of those who live intact, habitually wondering about their states of sanity, and home of those whose minds have been dead, bearing the scars of resurrection.
We all have scars [...] Better by far for them to be worn on the outside.
Everyone always wants to know how you can tell when it's true love, and the answer is this: when the pain doesn't fade and the scars don't heal, and it's too damned late.
It's a funny thing, character, the way it brands people as they age, rising from within to leave its scar.
I am past scorching; not easily can’st thou scorch a scar.
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