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O Quotes

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All O Quotes

“Once lead this people into war, and they'll forget there ever was such a thing as tolerance. To fight, you must be brutal and ruthless, and the spirit of ruthless brutality will enter into the very fiber of our national life, infecting Congress, the courts, the policeman on the beat, the man in the street.”

“Once learnt, this business of cooking was to prove an ever growing burden. It scarcely bears thinking about, the time and labour that man and womankind has devoted to the preparation of dishes that are to melt and vanish in a moment like smoke or a dream, like a shadow, and as a post that hastes by, and the air closes behind them, afterwards no sign where they went is to be found.”

“Once leprosy had gone, and the figure of the leper was no more than a distant memory, these structures still remained. The game of exclusion would be played again, often in these same places, in an oddly similar fashion two or three centuries later. The role of the leper was to be played by the poor and by the vagrant, by prisoners and by the 'alienated', and the sort of salvation at stake for both parties in this game of exclusion is the matter of this study.”

“Once- long ago and for millennia before that- we had been slaves to High Fae overlords. Once, we had built them glorious, sprawling civilisations from our blood and sweat, built them temples to their feral gods. Once, we had rebelled, across every land and territory. The War had been so bloody, so destructive, that it took six mortal queens crafting the Treaty for the slaughter to cease on both sides and for the wall to be constructed: the North of our world conceded to the High Fae and faeries, who took their magic with them; the South to we cowering mortals, forever forced to scratch out a living from the earth.”

“Once, long ago, Jesus had called her name, breaking through the darkness of her oppression to set her free from the seven demons that bound her. now He broke through the hopelessness of her grief and despair. Mary might not have recognized His face, but she could never forget the sound of His voice, not when He called her name.(From "I Have Seen The Lord!")”

“Once Luang Por Chah was going to visit a branch monastery down near the Cambodian border. The road through the hills down to the borderlands was very twisting and precipitous. Luang Por Chah was in the front of the little pickup truck with a young Western monk and the driver, while there were a few other monks on the benches in the back. The Western monk soon realized that the driver was extremely reckless, and he became convinced the driver had a death wish. They were haring around the steep mountain roads, with enormous drops and blind corners, screeching around one bend after another. The monk sat there the whole time thinking, ‘We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die! We’re gonna die!’ and he kept looking over to Ajahn Chah to see if he was reacting, and whether he was going to ask the driver to slow down. Instead Ajahn Chah sat there quite calmly looking out of the windscreen and didn’t say a thing. To the young monk’s amazement they got through the hills safely and arrived at their destination. When they got there Ajahn Chah turned around to him with a big grin and said, ‘Scary ride, huh?”

“Once Mandela was elected we could finally live freely. Exiles started to return. I met my first one when I was around seventeen. He told me his story and I was like, "Wait, what? You mean we could have left? That was an option?" Imagine being thrown out of an airplane. You hit the ground and break all your bones, you go to the hospital and you heal and you move on and finally put the whole thing behind you - and then one day somebody tells you about parachutes. That's how I felt. I couldn't understand why we'd stayed. I went straight hoe and asked my mom. "Why? Why didn't we just leave? Why didn't we go to Switzerland?" "Because I am not Swiss." she said, as stubborn as ever. "This is my country. Why should I leave?”

“Once Mel Gibson revealed himself to be, like the president, a person of serious religious faith, the gloves came off. Mel Gibson has done a major favor for serious faith, both Jewish and Christian, in America. He has made it "cool" to be religious, but in so doing he has unleashed the hatred of secular America against himself personally, against his work and against his family. God bless him.”

“Once Modern men discern that traditional things offer certain advantages, they are always tempted to say, “There is an awful lot about this I like. But I don’t like everything about it. Perhaps I can keep the parts I like and remove the parts that are distasteful and annoying.” However, if traditional things work just as well without the distasteful and unlikable parts, some sage would have removed those part a long time ago. The parts of old things that Modern men do not like are exactly what make old things work.”

“Once money is involved, it is no longer social. It becomes business. Even on social media, when money is involved, it is no longer just social media. It is business. And in business, there is rivalry and competition. People can cheat, be mean, brutal, violent, cunning, tricky, dishonest, and manipulative. They are willing to do whatever it takes to win or make a profit. That is why, when money is involved in social media, it is no longer fun but turns toxic and violent. Some people are in it to win it and are willing to do distasteful, horrible, evil, vile, mean, toxic, barbaric, and inhuman things to get that money.”

“Once more, he was immersing himself in books, reaching the end of long articles, even going back over paragraphs to make sure he'd grasped things. How much more satisfying it was than all that skimming, all that jumping around. At present, he was working his way, deliciously, through a book on Mendel, the father of genetics. A man who might not have spend seven years watching peas, if he'd had the internet.”

“Once more, I close my heavy eyes, My dreadful fate I cannot disguise. The darkness of my loneliness, Strangling me in its abyss. My hollow heart is aching so, And it's growing ever colder, I know. My blighted soul lies still and numb, In the deep and silent tomb. My hopes, once soaring like an eagle, Have perished in the frozen gale. No one hears my silent cries, Echoing amidst these solemn skies. The wintry storms that rage around, Have shattered all that I have found. As I drift away in mournful grief, My hopelessness consumes me like a thief.”