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Craig D. Lounsbrough Quotes

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Famous Craig D. Lounsbrough Quotes

“Hope is a terribly dangerous thing, for what if that which we so passionately hope for never comes to pass? What if the healing never comes, the relationship is never restored, the dream can’t be revived, and the horror of the inevitable remains horribly inevitable? These things I pondered. And yet, standing in a forest forced silent by the bitter hand of winter I was reminded that spring is never deterred despite how bitter winter’s hand might be. For it is not the ‘hope’ of spring. Rather it is the ‘fact’ of spring. And therefore we must remember that hope is fact despite how bitter the hand of life.”

“The wisdom to be on the throne of one’s life must surpass the wisdom of the one being ruled, otherwise I will squander the whole of my life in the most appalling ways. By virtue of that reality, I would be wise to get out of the chair and invite God to have a seat.”

“If I get up just one less time than the number of times I’ve been knocked down, I have done one of the most devastating things possible; I have halted my life at that very spot.”

“It is not within my power to refuse the journey of life regardless of the nature of my fears or the depth of my selfishness, for the definitions of ‘journey’ and ‘life’ are indistinguishably synonymous. I can however sufficiently inhibit them and amply fight them to the point that I have accepted the journey, but the journey is now solely defined as my effort to forsake the journey.”

“At the point that I lay on my deathbed or find myself at the end of my life in whatever way that might come, I want to know with assurance that I squeezed everything out of my life and into the lives of those around me. I want to be wrung dry. I want to be a limp rag empty of everything. For if there is even the slightest hint of moisture within me that I somehow did not squeeze out into the life of someone else, I may have done well in life, but I nonetheless carried something to my grave that should have been left in the life of someone now standing at my graveside. And to die empty is the passion that wrings me dry in the living of my days.”

“How do I hold an existence as profoundly intricate, brilliantly ingenious, exquisitely beautiful, and expansive beyond comprehension to some time frame within which it will no longer exist? Would not these attributes, as resplendent and incomprehensible as they are, not suggest something bigger than the rubrics of time? As such, I am led to believe that we live in an existence that is as timeless as the attributes that possess it, and as expansive as the divine passion that shaped it.”