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Priest Quotes

Browse 92 quotes about Priest.

Priest Quotes

“Without the aid of sacred ceremony or costume, her feelings had turned this man, only a few years older than herself, into a priest, a sort of trust less rare than the fidelity that guards it. Young reverence for one who is also young is the most coercive of all: there is the same level of temptation, and the higher motive is believed in as a fuller force--not suspected to be a mere residue from weary experience. But the coercion is often stronger on the one who takes the reverence. Those who trust us educate us. And perhaps in that ideal consecration of Gwendolen's, some education was being prepared for Deronda.”

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Book:Daniel Deronda
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“Save your explanations, I got some questions for you first and you'd better answer them!' [slurred Hellian.] 'With what?' [Banaschar] sneered. 'Explanations?' 'No. Answers. There's a difference-' 'Really? How? What difference?' 'Explanations are what people use when they need to lie. Y'can always tell those,'cause those don't explain nothing and then they look at you like they just cleared things up when really they did the opposite and they know it and you know it and they know you know and you know they know that you know and they know you and you know them and maybe you go out for a pitcher later but who picks up the tab? That's what I want to know.' 'Right, and answers?' 'Answers is what I get when I ask questions. Answers is when you got no choice. I ask, you tell. I ask again, you tell some more. Then I break your fingers, 'cause I don't like what you're telling me, because those answers don't explain nothing!”

PhilosophyHumorFunnyAnswersDrunkWordplayPriestExplanationsSergeantMalazan Book Of The FallenBanascharHellianThe Bonehunters
Book:The Bonehunters
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“Power comes at a price, love," Veliss replied through bared teeth, maintaining the smile she offered to the townsfolk lining the square. "What power?" "All power. The power to rule, to kill, or, in your case this fine morning, the power to incite the lust of the old goat you're about to meet." "Lust? I have no desire to incite lust in anyone." Veliss turned to her with a quizzical expression, her smile suddenly genuine. "Then I'm afraid you're in for a lifetime of disappointment.”

PeopleLoveLifeTruthFunnyDesirePowerStrengthCostConversationLifetimeSmileDisappointmentLustTeethCommandManFakeLaughPaymentKillOldAfraidPricePretendRulePretencePriestTellGoatCreepPervTownsfolkIncite Encourage
Book:Queen of Fire
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“In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagvat Geeta, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions. I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.”

PhilosophySpiritualRespectSacredIntellectHinduismReverenceGodsBrahmaPriestBhagavad GitaVishnuGangesIndra
Book:Walden or, Life in the Woods
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“We lived in the country, I went to school, and - an important detail - I slept in my parents' room. At night it was my father's habit to read aloud to my mother. Though he was a Greek Orthodox priest, he would read anything, doubtless assuming that at my age I wouldn't understand. Usually I didn't even listen and fell asleep, unless the text was some gripping story. One night I pricked up my ears. He was reading the scene from a biography of Rasputin where the father, on his deathbed, calls his son to him and says: 'Go to Saint Petersburg and make yourself master of the city, fear nothing and no one, for God is an old hog.' Such an enormity in my father's mouth, for whom the priesthood was not a joke, impressed me as much as a conflagration or an earthquake. But I also distinctly recall - this was over fifty years ago - that my emotion was followed by a strange, dare I say a perverse pleasure.”

PhilosophyGodFaithPleasurePessimismPriestPerverse
Book:The Trouble with Being Born
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“I want to do what little I can to make my country truly free, to broaden the intellectual horizon of our people, to destroy the prejudices born of ignorance and fear, to do away with the blind worship of the ignoble past, with the idea that all the great and good are dead, that the living are totally depraved, that all pleasures are sins, that sighs and groans are alone pleasing to God, that thought is dangerous, that intellectual courage is a crime, that cowardice is a virtue, that a certain belief is necessary to secure salvation, that to carry a cross in this world will give us a palm in the next, and that we must allow some priest to be the pilot of our souls.”

PeopleWantCountryPastBeliefFearSinPleasureCourageVirtueCrimeIgnoranceLivingWorshipPrejudiceBlindSalvationIntellectGoodThoughtGreatCowardiceDeadFreeSighDestroyCrossDepravedIgnoblePriestPilotPleasingGroan
Book:Some Mistakes of Moses
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“Oh ! aimer une femme ! être prêtre ! être haï ! l’aimer de toutes les fureurs de son âme, sentir qu’on donnerait pour le moindre de ses sourires son sang, ses entrailles, sa renommée, son salut, l’immortalité et l’éternité, cette vie et l’autre ; regretter de ne pas être roi, génie, empereur, archange, dieu, pour lui mettre un plus grand esclave sous les pieds ; l’étreindre nuit et jour de ses rêves et de ses pensées ; et la voir amoureuse d’une livrée de soldat ! et n’avoir à lui offrir qu’une sale soutane de prêtre dont elle aura peur et dégoût ! Être présent, avec sa jalousie et sa rage, tandis qu’elle prodigue à un misérable fanfaron imbécile des trésors d’amour et de beauté ! Voir ce corps dont la forme vous brûle, ce sein qui a tant de douceur, cette chair palpiter et rougir sous les baisers d’un autre ! Ô ciel ! aimer son pied, son bras, son épaule, songer à ses veines bleues, à sa peau brune, jusqu’à s’en tordre des nuits entières sur le pavé de sa cellule, et voir toutes les caresses qu’on a rêvées pour elle aboutir à la torture ! N’avoir réussi qu’à la coucher sur le lit de cuir ! Oh ! ce sont là les véritables tenailles rougies au feu de l’enfer ! Oh ! bienheureux celui qu’on scie entre deux planches, et qu’on écartèle à quatre chevaux ! — Sais-tu ce que c’est que ce supplice que vous font subir, durant les longues nuits, vos artères qui bouillonnent, votre cœur qui crève, votre tête qui rompt, vos dents qui mordent vos mains ; tourmenteurs acharnés qui vous retournent sans relâche, comme sur un gril ardent, sur une pensée d’amour, de jalousie et de désespoir ! Jeune fille, grâce ! trêve un moment ! un peu de cendre sur cette braise ! Essuie, je t’en conjure, la sueur qui ruisselle à grosses gouttes de mon front ! Enfant ! torture-moi d’une main, mais caresse-moi de l’autre ! Aie pitié, jeune fille ! aie pitié de moi !”

PassionJealousyPriestEsmeraldaFrollo
Book:Notre-Dame de Paris
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“Most priests wish they were as righteous as they seem to most members of their congregations.”

HumorFunnyQuotesEvilWishChurchMoralAtheismHonestHumourPureJokesHumorousBibleAtheistNobleGoodBelieverImpressionMinistersDecentWickedSatirePriestsEthicalAphorismRighteousVirtuousPreacherImpressQuotationsHonorablePastorJokeBadImmoralHilariousPersonaFoulPaganAphorismsCorruptCrookedCongregationImageObsceneBelieversAngelicShamelessCriminalShadyClergymenDepravedWantonSynagogueAphoristAphoristsPriestPrincipledPromiscuousUnethicalAtheistsChurchesPastorsReverendsBlamelessDishonorableSinfulVicarsChaplainsDishonestPadresPadrePreachersMinisterSleazyLooseGodlessBaseNonbelieverNonbelieversVileUnscrupulousPervertedReverendUprightCurateImpureSynagoguesImamDegenerateClergymanLaw AbidingPerverseChaplainLewdVicarCongregationsClericDebauchedDisreputableParsonsClericsDebasedHigh MindedLicentiousMorally WrongNefariousSaintlyUnconscionableUnprincipledVillainousWrongfulChurchmanChurchmenCuratesDissoluteEcclesiasticEcclesiasticsImamsIniquitousIrreproachableLowdownMan Of The ClothMen Of The ClothMiscreantParsonRectorRectorsReprobateUnchasteUnvirtuousUpstanding
Author:Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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“Even a man who makes the most modest pretensions to integrity must know that a theologian, a priest, a pope of today not only errs when he speaks, but actually lies— and that he no longer escapes blame for his lie through “innocence” or “ignorance.” The priest knows, as every one knows, that there is no longer any “God,” or any “sinner,” or any “Saviour”— that “free will” and the “moral order of the world” are lies —: serious reflection, the profound self-conquest of the spirit, allow no man to pretend that he does not know it. . . . All the ideas of the church are now recognized for what they are — as the worst counterfeits in existence, invented to debase nature and all natural values; the priest himself is seen as he actually is — as the most dangerous form of parasite, as the venomous spider of creation. . . . We know, our conscience now knows — just what the real value of all those sinister inventions of priest and church has been and what ends they have served, with their debasement of humanity to a state of self-pollution, the very sight of which excites loathing — the concepts “the other world,” “the last judgment,” “the immortality of the soul,” the “soul” itself: they are all merely so many instruments of torture, systems of cruelty, whereby the priest becomes master and remains master. . . .”

ReligionSinChristianityMoralityLiesNietzschePriestGod Is A Lie
Book:The Anti-Christ
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“Teaching is no joke, sonny! ... Comforting truths, they call it! Truth is meant to save you first, and the comfort comes afterwards. Besides, you've no right to call that sort of thing comfort. Might as well talk about condolences! The Word of God is a red-hot iron. And you who preach it 'ud go picking it up with a pair of tongs, for fear of burning yourself, you daren't get hold of it with both hands. It's too funny! Why, the priest who descends from the pulpit of Truth, with a mouth like a hen's vent, a little hot but pleased with himself, he's not been preaching: at best he's been purring like a tabby-cat. Mind you that can happen to us all, we're all half asleep, it's the devil to wake us up, sometimes — the apostles slept all right at Gethsemane. Still, there's a difference... And mind you many a fellow who waves his arms and sweats like a furniture-remover isn't necessarily any more awakened than the rest. On the contrary. I simply mean that when the Lord has drawn from me some word for the good of souls, I know, because of the pain of it.”

TruthChristianReligionChristianityComfortBibleCatholicScriptureCatholicismWord Of GodPreachingPriesthoodPriestHomily
Book:The Diary of a Country Priest
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“Can we believe that the real God, if there is one, ever ordered a man to be killed simply for making hair oil, or ointment? We are told in the thirtieth chapter of Exodus, that the Lord commanded Moses to take myrrh, cinnamon, sweet calamus, cassia, and olive oil, and make a holy ointment for the purpose of anointing the tabernacle, tables, candlesticks and other utensils, as well as Aaron and his sons; saying, at the same time, that whosoever compounded any like it, or whoever put any of it on a stranger, should be put to death. In the same chapter, the Lord furnishes Moses with a recipe for making a perfume, saying, that whoever should make any which smelled like it, should be cut off from his people. This, to me, sounds so unreasonable that I cannot believe it. Why should an infinite God care whether mankind made ointments and perfumes like his or not? Why should the Creator of all things threaten to kill a priest who approached his altar without having washed his hands and feet? These commandments and these penalties would disgrace the vainest tyrant that ever sat, by chance, upon a throne.”

GodCareDeathBeliefLordMankindHolyBibleInfinitePrioritiesCommandVanityPenaltiesPerfumePettyDeath PenaltyDisgraceMosesKillUnreasonableJehovahFicklePriestThreatsYahwehThe BibleExodusThroneTyrantAaronAltarThe LordCommandmentOintmentTabernacle
Book:Some Mistakes of Moses
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“Despite an icy northeast wind huffing across the bay I sneak out after dark, after my mother falls asleep clutching her leather Bible, and I hike up the rutted road to the frosted meadow to stand in mist, my shoes in muck, and toss my echo against the moss-covered fieldstone corners of the burned-out church where Sunday nights in summer for years Father Thomas, that mad handsome priest, would gather us girls in the basement to dye the rose cotton linen cut-outs that the deacon’s daughter, a thin beauty with short white hair and long trim nails, would stitch by hand each folded edge then steam-iron flat so full of starch, stiffening fabric petals, which we silly Sunday school girls curled with quick sharp pulls of a scissor blade, forming clusters of curved petals the younger children assembled with Krazy glue and fuzzy green wire, sometimes adding tissue paper leaves, all of us gladly laboring like factory workers rather than have to color with crayon stubs the robe of Christ again, Christ with his empty hands inviting us to dine, Christ with a shepherd's staff signaling to another flock of puffy lambs, or naked Christ with a drooping head crowned with blackened thorns, and Lord how we laughed later when we went door to door in groups, visiting the old parishioners, the sick and bittersweet, all the near dead, and we dropped our bikes on the perfect lawns of dull neighbors, agnostics we suspected, hawking our handmade linen roses for a donation, bragging how each petal was hand-cut from a pattern drawn by Father Thomas himself, that mad handsome priest, who personally told the Monsignor to go fornicate himself, saying he was a disgruntled altar boy calling home from a phone booth outside a pub in North Dublin, while I sat half-dressed, sniffing incense, giddy and drunk with sacrament wine stains on my panties, whispering my oath of unholy love while wiggling uncomfortably on the mad priest's lap, but God he was beautiful with a fine chiseled chin and perfect teeth and a smile that would melt the Madonna, and God he was kind with a slow gentle touch, never harsh or too quick, and Christ how that crafty devil could draw, imitate a rose petal in perfect outline, his sharp pencil slanted just so, the tip barely touching so that he could sketch and drink, and cough without jerking, without ruining the work, or tearing the tissue paper, thin as a membrane, which like a clean skin arrived fresh each Saturday delivered by the dry cleaners, tucked into the crisp black vestment, wrapped around shirt cardboard, pinned to protect the high collar.”

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Book:Nothing But Trouble
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“What if the preacher or father’s saying ‘Someone here’s lost and hopeless’ was tantamount to those Sun-Times horoscopes that are specially designed to be so universally obvious that they always give their horoscope readers that special eerie feeling of particularity and insight, exploiting the psychological fact that most people are narcissistic and prone to the illusion that they and their problems are uniquely special and that if they’re feeling a certain way then surely they’re the only person who is feeling like that.”

HumansTruthChurchPsychologyNarcissismPriestPreachHoroscope
Book:The Pale King
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“How often do we hear from the local diocesan people—the bishop, the communications director, the victim assistance coordinator, and others—that this abuse is not restricted to clergy, but, rather, it is a societal problem? It does occur outside in the public realm. When was the last time you heard of a sex offender not being held accountable for his actions once caught? The Church treated the abuse as a sin only and nothing more. Out in society, sex offenders are not moved to another community quietly. “But protest that priests are 'no worse' than other groups or than men in general is a dire indictment of the profession. It is surprising that this attitude is championed by the Church authorities. Although the extent of the problem will continue to be debated, sexual abuse by Catholic priests is a fact. The reason why priests, publicly dedicated to celibate service, abuse is a question that cries out for explanation. Sexual activity of any adult with a minor is a criminal offense. By virtue of the requirement of celibacy, sexual activity with anyone is proscribed for priests. These factors have been constant and well-known by all Church authorities” (Sipe 227−228).”

LawChurchSinCrimeCatholicVictimBlamePunishmentDenialRepentanceSurvivorChild AbuseSexual AbuseRapeExcusesSexual AssaultCelibacyCriminalParishPriestPedophileSociety ProblemBishopCoverupAuthoritiesClergy AbuseCelibateDiocese
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“Traveled so far, and not yet have they come across anything of interest, he mused, except, of course, for that nest of goblins I managed to stir up. Indeed, his brother had always been a valiant fool; why not give him some excitement? He always did possess a love for a good fight, and who am I to deny him? The glass sphere, responding to his thoughts, zoomed in on the mountain nearby where Shrukian camped, and by putting both his hands on the sphere's sides and closing his eyes, Pharun could all but smell the power that radiated from its depths. He could taste it on the back of his tongue, and it awake all sorts of things inside of him. The power tasted of death and ash, and it was scalding hot, pouring down his throat like blood of the freshly dead. He did not need further searching to know what kind of power he was sampling. He smiled to himself, and it came out a satisfied smirk.”

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Book:The Dragon's Disciples
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“The shame, embarrassment, feeling of low self-worth, and scores of "labels" we give ourselves are not fitting. I am beginning to see how I had no control over the situation. He was a big man, I was a little boy.”

HealingJourneyRegretVictimBlameGuiltPainfulProtectionRecoveryTherapySurvivorRapePsychologistPsychotherapySexual AssaultPriestOnionClergy AbusePriest AbuseSexdual Abuse
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“It wasn't a sign of weakness to tell what happened to me. I feel guilt no longer, only regret. The other emotions are coming around too. How much further do I need to go? I'm not sure, but there is comfort in the fact that I am in the hands of expert guides, both in the doctor's office and at home with Sue.”

HealingJourneyRegretVictimGuiltPainfulProtectionRecoveryTherapySurvivorRapePsychologistPsychotherapySexual AssaultPriestSurvivors Of AbuseOnionClergy AbusePriest AbuseSexdual Abuse
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“As I let it out, layer by layer, Dr. Driscoll helped with the bumps and valleys. He knew just how much to draw out of me and how much I could handle. He is such an expert in his profession. He told me that the guilt I was feeling was not guilt, but regret. Guilt is a good thing. It is a mechanism by which we shouldn't make the same mistake twice. If you do something questionable, then the next chance you get to do it, guilt should stop you. I had no guilt. I had regrets, many regrets, but no guilt. It took some convincing, but he prevailed. There was always a nagging in my head, that if only I had had the guts to kill Neary myself, it would have stopped him from harming others, but that was not to be as a small boy. It does hurt that, maybe, just maybe, if I had carried out one of my many plans to kill him and myself then I could have saved victims younger than I. As victims come forward from almost all the churches where he served—and some are twenty—five plus years my junior—I feel that they would have been spared, if only I hadn't chickened out as a boy. Therein lies the answer; I was a little boy, a ten—year—old boy. Other victims of Neary were as young as six.”

HealingJourneyRegretVictimBlameGuiltPainfulProtectionRecoveryTherapySurvivorRapePsychologistPsychotherapySexual AssaultPriestOnionClergy AbusePriest AbuseSexdual Abuse
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“...very soon he went to sleep. He dreamed that the priest whom they had shot that morning was back in the house dressed in the clothes his father had lent him and laid out stiffly for burial. The boy sat beside the bed and his mother read out of a very long book all about how the priest had acted in front of the bishop the part of Julius Caesar: there was a fish basket at her feet, and the fish were bleeding, wrapped in her handkerchief. He was very tired and very bored and somebody was hammering nails into a coffin in the passage. Suddenly the dead priest winked at him - an unmistakable flicker of the eyelid, just like that.”

DeathFaithChristianityDreamsChildhoodCatholicismMexicoMartyrdomPriestFreudian
Author:Graham Greene, The Power and the Glory
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“To be happy needs a strong spirit. It needs no courage to be miserable. That is why millions of people are miserable. The society  consists  of miserable people. The society wants people to be misrable, beacuse then they are easy to manipulate, control and exploit. But to be happy one really needs a strong spirit. You need a strong spirit for two reasons: he first reason is that the whole of humanity is accustomed to living in misery  and the second reason is that you have to go against the accustomed misery of humanity.  It means that you have to leave the collective unconscious. You have to leave the unconscious crowd, the mob. There are many kinds of crowds: political, religious, cults, Socialist,  Communist,  Capitalist, Conservative, Fascist, Christian and Islamic. The miserable  person cannot be alone. He always wants to belong to a crowd.  The miserable person is like a sheep, who wants to belong to a herd. Sheps are always afraid to be alone. The happy person has to be like a lion. The first thing for being happ yis to learn to be alone. The first step is to drop the mass mind. The mob is the lowest possibility of humanity. Whenever you want to be alone and you want to leave the collective unconscious, when you want to leave the mob, the mob will try to hinder you. The mob will create every hindrance. The mob becomes afraid , because if one person leaves the mob, then other people may also try to leave the mob. The crowd do not want to lose its power, because the crowd consists of the politicians, the priests, the establishment, the status quo, the media and the rich, and they all depend on the mob psychology. The happy person is a danger to all of them. So this is why a strong spirit is needed to go against the mob psychology to be happy.”

HappinessReligionHumanitySocietyMiserablePoliticiansPriestThe MobCollective Unconsciousness
Book:The Way of the Heart
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“They like to use those fancy words. They don't like to say “raped,'” he said. “They say “misdeed,' “inappropriate touching,' “mistake.' That's insulting. I'm not a mistake.”

ChurchSecretCatholicVictimDenialPriestsSurvivorRitualRapeRitual AbuseVictimsPriestCover UpRitualsPedophileOrganized AbuseOrganised AbuseCoverupMinimizationAltarRitualistic AbuseClergy AbusePedophile PriestsPedophile Protector
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“I was amazed, shocked, and sickened by what I heard throughout the day, over and over, by many victims' stories. I can think of no one with whom I didn't recognize a common thread. These monsters, these evil priests, used the same words and methods on all of us. With each session, I would find something that sent a cold chill down my spine. It amazed and frightened me that the actual words used on me, to rape me, to rape me, were the same as the words used on so many others from all over the United States. You would think that all these priests either were educated in how to concur and rape us, or they met privately with each other to compare notes and develop their plan of attack on us. The pattern was so much the same, with the same words, that you would swear it was scripted and disbursed to these priests. Do they secretly have closed-door meetings on how to abuse us? A chilling thought. Neary's routine of saying the “Our Father” during the rape and making me say it with him, repeating the “thy will be done” over and over, the absolution given me after he “finished,” the threats of having God take my parents away, the lectures about offering my suffering up to God, etc., etc., etc. My experience was identical, word-for-word, to that of many others. The exact words during the abuse were not just close, but exactly the same, as if it were some kind of abuse ritual. Ritual abuse is not limited to the religious definition and can include compulsive, abusive behavior performed in an exact series of steps with little variation. How could these similarities occur without the priests taking the same “abuse seminar” together some place, somehow? Was it taught in the seminary? In some dark corner? It goes beyond coincidence—the similarities in deeds and verbiage that these predators use on us. It truly chilled me to the very marrow of my bones.”

ChurchSecretCatholicVictimPriestsSurvivorRitualRapeRitual AbuseVictimsPriestCover UpRitualsPedophileOrganized AbuseOrganised AbuseCoverupAltarRitualistic AbuseClergy AbusePedophile Priests
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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“This fallen world is not going to provide you with the proof of God’s love. Only faith will. And to have faith, you have to become like a madman in the eyes of this world. Just keep in mind that the world itself is mad. And so, to be a madman, according to the judgement of a mad world, is, in fact, to be perfectly sane. So, if that’s what it takes, then be mad. Be mad and reject the demonic whispers of the Devil that tells you Christ does not love you. Reject the fallen logic of this world that tells you Christ does not love you. Reject the wisdom of your fallen mind, reject the emotions of your fallen heart. For both will tell you at various moments in your life that Christ does not love you. Learn not to listen to them. Learn to be blind to them. Learn to be dead to them. There is a very good reason why Christ says one can only open to real life when one has rejected and lost this fallen life.”

ScotlandMonkCelticPriestMonasterySeraphimIsle Of Mull Orthodox
Author:Fr. Seraphim Aldea
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“The first days of January 1942 brought enormous amounts of snow. The reader already knows what snow meant for the clergy. But this time the torture surpassed the bounds of the endurable. At the same time the thermometer hovered between 5 and 15 degrees below zero. From morning till night we scraped, shoveled, and pushed wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of snow to the brook. The work detail consisted of more than 1,000 clergymen, forced to keep moving by SS men and Capos who kicked us and beat us with truncheons. We had to make rounds with the wheelbarrows from the assembly square to the brook and back. Not a moment of rest was allowed, and much of the time we were forced to run. At one point I tripped over my barrow and fell, and it took me a while to get up again. An SS man dashed over and ordered me to turn with the full load. He ran beside me, beating me constantly with a leather strap. When I got to the brook I was not allowed to dump out the heavy snow, but had to make a second complete round with it instead. When the guard finally went off and I tried to let go of the wheelbarrow, I found that one of my hands was frozen fast to it. I had to blow on it with warm breath to get it free.”

SufferingTorturePriestsCatholicismNazismPriesthoodNazi GermanySsNazisGood FridayPriestCatholicsConcentration Camps
Book:Priestblock 25487: a Memoir of Dachau
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“On Good Friday last year the SS found some pretext to punish 60 priests with an hour on "the tree." That is the mildest camp punishment. They tie a man's hands together behind his back, palms facing out and fingers pointing backward. Then they turn his hands inwards, tie a chain around his wrists and hoist him up by it. His own wight twists his joints and pulls them apart...Several of the priest who were hung up last year never recovered and died. If you don't have a strong heart, you don't survive it. Many have a permanently crippled hand.”

SufferingTorturePriestsCatholicismNazismPriesthoodNazi GermanySsNazisGood FridayPriestCatholicsConcentration Camps
Book:Priestblock 25487: a Memoir of Dachau
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“Man cannot be reduced to slavery if he is not distorted first. The politician and the priest have been in a deep conspiracy down the ages. They have been reducing humanity to a crowd of slaves. They are destroying every possibility of rebellion in man—and love is rebellion, because love listens only to the heart and does not care a bit about anything else.”

LovePoliticianSlaveryRebellionConspiracyDistortionSlavesPriest
Book:Courage: The Joy of Living Dangerously
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“Here we should quote especially those sections from Nietzsche's central morality-critical work The Genealogy of Morals that deal with their subject in a diction of Olympian clarity. In the decisive passage he discusses the practice forms of that life-denial or world-weariness which, according to Nietzsche, exemplifies the morphological circle of sick asceticisms in general: 'The ascetic [of the priestly-sick type] treats life as a wrong path on which one must walk backwards till one comes to the place where it starts; or he treats it as an error which one may, nay must, refute by action: for he demands that he should be followed; he enforces, where he can, his valuation of existence. What does this mean? Such a monstrous valuation is not an exceptional care, or a curiosity recorded in human history: it is one of the broadest and longest facts that exist. Reading from the vantage point of a distant star the capital letters of our earthly life would perchance lead to the conclusion that the earth was the truly ascetic planet, a den of discontented, arrogant and repulsive creature creatures, who never got rid of a deep disgust of themselves, of the world, of all life, and did themselves as much hurt as possible out of pleasure in hurting - presumably their one and only pleasure.”

NietzscheAsceticismPriestFriedrich NietzscheAscetics
Book:Du mußt dein Leben ändern
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“The Rochester group [of VOTF], however, was met with some concern as they found it hard to believe my account as it unfolded before them. I feel that some people have a hard time with the truths around us, not only the sexual abuse by priests, but all bad things. I call it chosen ignorance. This modified form of ignorance is found in people who, if confronted with certain truths realize that they have to accept them and thereby acknowledge evil, and that scares them. Opening up and letting the truth in might knock them off their perceived center. It is too hard, period." (VOTF - Voice of the Faithful - a Catholic group that wants to change the Church, keep the faith.)”

TruthFaithEvilChurchIgnoranceAbuseCatholicVictimFaithfulSurvivorSexual AbuseDisbeliefPriestPedophile PriestsPriest AbuseConfronted
Book:In the Shadow of the Cross: The True Account of My Childhood Sexual and Ritual Abuse at the Hands of a Roman Catholic Priest
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