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Quote by Mark M. Bello

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Betrayal In Black

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Mark M. Bello

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“God is not a God of confusion, although at times one's judgment, for a period, may become clouded in the mi(d)st of one's growth process. I stopped fooling myself into thinking that Christ is always for the cool kids and never for those upright and uptight religious people everybody hates.”

ThinkingLoveGodLawReligionFaithHateSpiritualityPassionJesusUnderstandingGrowthChristSinCompassionChristianityDoubtAcceptanceMoralityJudgmentSalvationConfusionObedienceMaturityHolinessUnconditional LoveBigotrySkepticismGospelOpen MindednessApologeticsSolemnityLegalismClose MindednessSinlessPhariseeRighteous Judgment
Book:Healology
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“When I was fifteen, a companion and I, on a dare, went into the mound one day just at sunset. We saw some of those Indians for the first time; we got directions from them and reached the top of the mound just as the sun set. We had camping equiptment with us, but we made no fire. We didn't even make down our beds. We just sat side by side on that mound until it became light enough to find our way back to the road. We didn't talk. When we looked at each other in the gray dawn, our faces were gray, too, quiet, very grave. When we reached town again, we didn't talk either. We just parted and went home and went to bed. That's what we thought, felt, about the mound. We were children, it is true, yet we were descendants of people who read books and who were, or should have been, beyond superstition and impervious to mindless fear.”

FearSuperstitionNative AmericansIndiansEarthworksMound
Book:Collected Stories of William Faulkner
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“கபிலர்: "அச்சம் இல்லை என்று சொல்ல நான் பொய்யன் அல்ல. ஆனால், அஞ்சமாட்டேன் எனச் சொல்ல பொய் தேவையில்லை." பாரி: "அதுதான் புலவன். சொல் சுடும்போது சொல்லைச் சுடுவான் என்று சொல்லக் கேட்டுள்ளேன். இன்றுதான் சொல்லிக் கேட்கிறேன்.”

FearPoetWords
Book:வீரயுக நாயகன் வேள்பாரி, முதல் தொகுதி
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“Once the fear took hold, I was fucked. I'd never known anything like it could exist: all-consuming, ravenous, a whirling black vortex that sucked me under so completely and mercilessly that it truly felt like I was being devoured alive, bones splintered, marrow sucked. After an eternity (lying in bed with my heart jackhammering, adrenaline firing me like a strobe light, feeling the last few threads that held my mind together stretch to a snapping point) something would happen to break the vortex's hold—a nurse coming in so that I had to make mechanical cheerful chitchat, an uncontrollable rush of sleep—and I would clamber up out of it, shaky and weak as a half-drowned animal. But even when the fear receded for a while, it was always there: dark, misshapen, taloned, hanging somewhere above and behind me, waiting for its next moment to drop onto my back and dig in deep.”

FearTraumaPtsdThe Witch Elm
Book:The Witch Elm
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