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Quote by William West

“Hate can destroy people. It changes people until they can’t reason, can’t find a way out of their misery, and lose all hope of a better life. Then hate forces people to place the blame on others instead of themselves. Reality is the enemy of hate’s success, and love is the enemy of hate.”

Quote by William West

Book:The Ascension of Mary
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The Ascension of Mary

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William West

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“How in the name of all things good does God work for us and keep us safe when the dreaded phone call detonates, or the shrapnel of shame shreds everything that looks like hope, or the sky lashes round and swallows your dreams whole, or the claw of death guts deep, and how do you stagger forward hiding your bloody entrails? Evil hisses that if God really is love, then we better get roads without any suffering. And we shake off the lie and crush it with truth: Because God really is love, then we get roads with Him, and because God really is love, we are always soul-safe”

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Book:WayMaker: Finding the Way to the Life You’ve Always Dreamed Of
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“Nowadays, she said, people were hungry to know everything, thinking that they could understand it all, as if enlightenment were just around the corner. But, she said, in fact there was no control, and understanding would not lessen any pain. The best we could do in this life was to pass through it, like smoke through the branches, suffering, until we either reached a state of nothingness, or else suffered elsewhere.”

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Book:Cold Enough for Snow
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“The word suffrage has nothing to do with suffering. It's from the Latin 'suffragium' and it's about having a vote, a voice, the right to participate in the making of decisions. And isn't that the same struggle (which does have to do with suffering) that we are facing in this country? That all adults should have a vote, a voice, the right to participate in the making of decisions? Universal Suffrage. What Extreme Conditions will it take for us to forge the path to it?”

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Author:Shellen Lubin
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“Their cruelty made them feel good, it made them feel proud, it made them feel happy. And it made them feel closer to one another…Their shared laughter at the suffering of others is an adhesive that binds them to one another, and to Trump.”

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Book:The Cruelty Is the Point: The Past, Present, and Future of Trump's America
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“It was a glorious night. The moon had sunk, and left the quiet earth alone with the stars. It seemed as if, in the silence and the hush, while we her children slept, they were talking with her, their sister—conversing of mighty mysteries in voices too vast and deep for childish human ears to catch the sound. They awe us, these strange stars, so cold, so clear. We are as children whose small feet have strayed into some dim-lit temple of the god they have been taught to worship but know not; and, standing where the echoing dome spans the long vista of the shadowy light, glance up, half hoping, half afraid to see some awful vision hovering there. And yet it seems so full of comfort and of strength, the night. In its great presence, our small sorrows creep away, ashamed. The day has been so full of fret and care, and our hearts have been so full of evil and of bitter thoughts, and the world has seemed so hard and wrong to us. Then Night, like some great loving mother, gently lays her hand upon our fevered head, and turns our little tear-stained faces up to hers, and smiles; and, though she does not speak, we know what she would say, and lay our hot flushed cheek against her bosom, and the pain is gone. Sometimes, our pain is very deep and real, and we stand before her very silent, because there is no language for our pain, only a moan. Night’s heart is full of pity for us: she cannot ease our aching; she takes our hand in hers, and the little world grows very small and very far away beneath us, and, borne on her dark wings, we pass for a moment into a mightier Presence than her own, and in the wondrous light of that great Presence, all human life lies like a book before us, and we know that Pain and Sorrow are but the angels of God. Only those who have worn the crown of suffering can look upon that wondrous light; and they, when they return, may not speak of it, or tell the mystery they know.”

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Book:Three Men in a Boat
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