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“Your God loves your people and hates mine; he folds his strong arms lovingly around the white man and leads him as a father leads his infant son, but he has forsaken his red children; he makes your people wax strong every day, and soon they will fill the land; while my people are ebbing away like a fast-receding tide, that will never flow again. The white man's God cannot love his red children or he would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help.”

“Your god may be your little Christian habit - the habit of prayer or Bible reading at certain times of your day. Watch how your Father will upset your schedule if you begin to worship your habit instead of what the habit symbolizes. We say, 'I can't do that right now; this is my time alone with God.' No, this is your time alone with your habit.”

“Your God person puts an apple tree in the middle of a garden and says, do what you like, guys, oh, but don't eat the apple. Surprise surprise, they eat it and he leaps out from behind a bush shouting "Gotcha". It wouldn't have made any difference if they hadn't eaten it.' 'Why not?' 'Because if you're dealing with somebody who has the sort of mentality which likes leaving hats on the pavement with bricks under them you know perfectly well they won't give up. They'll get you in the end.”

“Your god, sir, is the World. In my eyes, you, too, if not an infidel, are an idolater. I conceive that you ignorantly worship: in all things you appear to me too superstitious. Sir, your god, your great Bel, your fish-tailed Dagon, rises before me as a demon. You, and such as you, have raised him to a throne, put on him a crown, given him a sceptre. Behold how hideously he governs! See him busied at the work he likes best -- making marriages. He binds the young to the old, the strong to the imbecile. He stretches out the arm of Mezentius and fetters the dead to the living. In his realm there is hatred -- secret hatred: there is disgust -- unspoken disgust: there is treachery -- family treachery: there is vice -- deep, deadly, domestic vice. In his dominions, children grow unloving between parents who have never loved: infants are nursed on deception from their very birth: they are reared in an atmosphere corrupt with lies ... All that surrounds him hastens to decay: all declines and degenerates under his sceptre. Your god is a masked Death.”

“Your God still walks in Eden, between the ancient trees, Where Youth and Love go wading through pools of primroses. And this is the sign we bring you, before the darkness fall, That Spring is risen, is risen again, That Life is risen, is risen again, That Love is risen, is risen again, and Love is Lord of all.”

“Your God would never punish you for being a human being: this life itself is your penance...But it is also more than that: it is a crucible for transformation. Each trial, every loss, is an opportunity for you to meet suffering with love and make of it an offering, a prayer. The minute you lift your pain like a candle the darkness vanishes, and mercy comes rushing in to heal you.”

“Your good mother tells me you are feeling very badly in your new situation. Allow me to assure you it is a perfect certainty that you will, very soon, feel better - quite happy - if you only stick to the resolution you have taken to procure a military education.... On the contrary, if you falter, and give up, you will lose the power of keeping any resolution, and will regret it all your life.”

“Your government is giant. How many people are in it, top to bottom? Are you going to change them? Can you change even one person, let alone all those hundreds or thousands? Actually, which one can you change? Yourself. Therefore, just practice. So much complaining—did you control yourself, now you are looking for something else to control? And if you didn't control your own self, your own mind, then wanting to control everybody else, that's embarrassing! You are not qualified! We say, “They should do this!” “They should do that!” But what we should do ourselves, we don't know or we ignore it. Therefore, we are shameless, pointing the finger at everybody else and ignoring the smell coming from our own butt that we didn't clean nicely. Like myself, here I have a control for my television. I have a television control but no control over my own mind! That's embarrassing! You might think your own idea is wonderful, and everybody should follow your way. Actually, does your “my way” have any foundation? You should check. If you think you have a wonderful “my way,” then you need to get more educated. Study and check, carefully. Then you can see if your way is really solid or not before you start thinking you are a big hero just because you can blah blah blah. Anybody can blah! Even Odzer the cat can meow lots! If you really think you are better than others, you should check carefully: what is that 'better?' If you are really better than them, then good. Stay that way. No reason to be proud. Your merit. Don't lose it, boasting! Or if that 'better' is not really better, then examine your faults. Maybe what you thought was better was actually a mistake. Maybe they are the right way and you are the wrong way. Whatever your wrong way things are, then do confession and Vajrasattva and purify them. Slowly give up your negative things. If you find you are indeed better, you don't need to scream at everyone, “I am good! I am the goodest! The best!” If you find you have faults, you don't need to make a big announcement: “I am bad!” It is just your own business. Good things, keep. Bad things, slowly move away from them.”

“Your Grace,” she said, quietly. “Did you have a good dinner?” “What are you doing here?” He frowned, ignoring her question. “This is hardly proper, Miss Mackenzie. If you wished to speak with me, you should have waited until morning.” The blatant deception fanned the flames of Maggie’s fury. “I have no wish to speak with you at all,” she cried. “Nor to be near you in any way. Yet here I am. Commanded once again. Summoned once again.” She felt herself begin to shake. “I tell you, it ends now. I will not stand it. No matter what you believe I am. I will not be that to you, Lance Carlisle.” She called him by the name she had known him by in her childhood. When she had believed him a prince. “Your uncle may have used me as he liked, but I will not be used again.” She could hear herself, practically shouting now. Any footman passing by in the hall would hear. Well, let them. In the heat of her words, her arms had fallen to her sides. Her hands were clenched now, her fingernails biting sharply into her palms. She gasped, looking down, to see traces of blood from small half-moon indentations. The duke was looking at her, his mouth partly open. The cravat he had been undoing, hung untied around his neck. Now he snatched it off with one hand, as he looked at her bloodied hands. “Maggie,” he said, his voice low. “What are you talking about? What have you done? I did not ask you here. Will you not talk sense and tell me what has happened?” She watched him take a deep breath. “I do not know how to convince you of this, but I only wish to help. That is the God’s honest truth of it, Maggie. I have no wish to harm you.” “You called me here, to your room. You told her you wanted me,” Maggie whispered. There was a tinge of doubt in her voice now. Could he hear it? She watched his face change, harden with anger. Against her?”

“Your grandfather was a hero in a war, girls. He wasn't a bad man or a weak man. Maybe he was too old to have a second family, a second wife and your mother and me, so many years after he lost his first. Maybe he was too old to fight anymore, and that's why he let me be taken away. I've thought about this for years and years. All I know is there are no heroes in this world. Not really. Just men and women who become old and tired and lose the strength to fight for what they love any longer.”