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Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

“It was always the magic of those dense snowfalls that bedecked the landscape in a whitened splendor and rendered the horizon cloaked to invisibility in winter’s frosty veil. And in the rapture of such moments, you find yourself pressed beyond any and all means of resistance to hold onto anything except the majesty of the ascending moment. And being held a willing hostage, it takes but a moment of these moments to realize that everything around you has been swept up in just the same way, leaving you joined with the whole of creation that is both quieted in awe, but likewise raucous in praise. And I wonder (in some very remote way), if the first Christmas night might have been something like this.”

Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

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Craig D. Lounsbrough

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“It is at the name of Jesus, the Christ made man, that every knee is to bend in heaven. The overwhelming revelation made to the angels in the mystery of the Ascension is not that they are to adore the Eternal Word --- that is already the object of their liturgy; but rather, they are to adore the Word Incarnate --- and that overturns all of heaven, just as the Incarnation revolutionized all the earth.”

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Book:The Angels and Their Mission: According to the Fathers of the Church
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“She could only admire the breadth of his chest, each pectoral muscle clearly defined. Her palms itched to explore them, and she wanted to curl her fingers in the sprinkling of dark hair that narrowed over the flat plains of his belly. There was an indentation bisecting them that she ached to trace. The hair grew denser just below his navel, arrowing toward his low-slung drawers, half-opened now. She gasped when she saw it. The tip of him rose up, thick and pink, protruding over the top of the linen. The ache between her thighs increased, as if knowing he was meant to be inside her to assuage it. He saw her take notice and kept his arms up, fingers laced behind his head, as if basking in her study of him.”

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“كل يوم يمضي بدونها كان يقتلني ويفتك بي آلاف المرات..فمنذ تلك اللحظة التي أبصرتها عيناي بها، غادرت روحي إلى جسدها ولم تعد..ربما لأن روحي علمت أن أفضل ديار لها هى روحها المضيئة التي لا تنطفئ أبدا..قد أكون بلا روحي جسدا معتما أنتزعت منه الحياة..ولكن الضوء الذي استمدته روحي من روحها التي تسكن بها جعلني كالبطل الخارق الذي يظل جسده متصلا بروحه مهما كانت بعيدة عنه..لذا قد يقتلني غيابها آلاف المرات ولكنه في ذات الوقت يقويني بلايين المرات!”

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Book:العشق تحت النجوم
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“Not only do you get a chance to get out of Hawksburg again to start up the franchise, but Finn’s heaven sent. He could kick-start our food to the next level. I know you’re ready to stop treading water.” Treading water. Heaven sent. Finn had been in town less than two days, and already people thought he was more valuable to Honey and Hickory than she was. Lyndsey leaned both elbows on the prep table and turned to Simone, eyes bright. “Do you think he can teach me how to flambé? I’ve always wanted to try.” Of course he could. He could teach them to fillet a halibut, or make a red wine reduction. But what did that matter at Honey and Hickory? “You planning to flambé a pork butt?” Lyndsey shook her head. “Then it’s a moot point. Finn’s here to help with the reception dinner—that’s it.” Brows raised, Lyndsey said, “Heard.”

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“If a woman stands behind you, respect her; if she stands beside you, cherish her; if she stands with you, adore her.”

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“Morning Meditation I used to rise early in meditation, As the ancient saints and mystics, Looking for peace, bliss, and ecstasy. Now I awake as the sun rises. I lie beside her, Her head and the tops of her shoulders Revealed from the top of the covers Where we lay. Her face shines, As the sun rolls through the bedroom Curtains and leave her with a mandorla As if she were the subject of iconography. I lay in silence as I meditate on the artistry Of freckles that are perfectly dotted On her face and shoulders. I venerate the delicate curvature Of her lips and nose. Her eyes closed, Veiled by a composition of lashes That shroud the green mystery underneath. As her hair lays dark and graceful Across the pillows in front of me, I lay in adoration, and know there are none like her. Moses was not even shown God's face, Yet she has done me one better.”

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“You first taught me the great principle "Begin where you are." I had thought one had to start by summoning up what we believe about the goodness and greatness of God, by thinking about creation and redemption and "all the blessings of this life." You turned to the brook and once more splashed your burning face and hands in the little waterfall and said, "Why not begin with this?" And it worked. Apparently you have never guessed how much. That cushiony moss, that coldness and sound and dancing light were no doubt the very minor blessings compared with "the means of grace and the hope of glory." But then they were manifest. So far as they were concerned, sight had replaced faith. They were not the hope of glory, they were an exposition of the glory itself." Yet you were not - or so it seemed - telling me that "Nature," or "the beauties of Nature," manifest the glory. No such abstraction as "Nature" comes into it. I was learning the far more secret doctrine that pleasures are shafts of the glory as it strikes our sensibility. As it impinges on our will or understanding, we give it different names - goodness or truth or the like. But its flash upon our senses and mood is pleasure.”

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Book:Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer
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