“That’s what’s so cool about God—He doesn’t think you have to be someone else before He’ll love you. It’s not a contest. He loves you right now. Right here. Just like you are,”
“How can you trust a God Who took away your parents?” Her gaze fell. “This life isn’t perfect, and there are things that happen, bad things, set into motion by people who make really bad choices. God does not alter the physical laws of this world. If velocity says a car traveling at this speed hits another at that speed, there are consequences to that impact. God allows the laws here to work so that we can live our lives. Otherwise, if the law of gravity worked sometimes and not others, we couldn’t even walk out of our house because we might float off the planet.” She paused and then shook her head. “But there’s more to it than that. God can take anything, anything and use it to teach us, to strengthen us, to guide us—if we let Him.”
“and ran her hand over his hair, gazing at”
“God will never bless what He doesn’t instigate. Why? Because He will not bless what is not from Himself. So what’s the answer to this dilemma? How do we know what God wants us to do? Simple. You walk through the doors that are open. Quit banging on the ones He has closed. Ask Him to lead you and to guide you and to open up those doors you are supposed to walk through.”
“muffin earlier.” “A muffin.” He lifted his chin skeptically. “Well, that’s one plus in your favor. Helga got canned because she ate too much.” Maggie swallowed at the implication. “Helga?” “She was the nanny… what? A year. Year and a half ago. Something like that.”
“The great and terrifying secret of the world is that you can work your whole life to accumulate things, pushing what is really important to the side. Only to realize at the end that you missed the only thing God will ever care about when He looks at us. “There”
“know he was here for her, that she could share her grief, and he would help her through it the best he could. Her cheek and hand rested on his chest, and he could feel her soft sobs. He wanted with everything in him to say something that would make it better, but what could he say? What could anyone say? It had all been said in one, thoughtless, reckless act by someone he would never know. “Thank you,” she said softly. He tilted his head to be able to see her. “For what?” “For”
“I felt lethal, on the verge of frenzy. My nightly bloodlust overflowed into my days and I had to leave the city. My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage. This was the bone season for me and I needed a vacation.”
“I think there must be probably different types of suicides. I'm not one of the self-hating ones. The type of like "I'm shit and the world'd be better off without poor me" type that says that but also imagines what everybody'll say at their funeral. I've met types like that on wards. Poor-me-I-hate-me-punish-me-come-to-my-funeral. Then they show you a 20 X 25 glossy of their dead cat. It's all self-pity bullshit. It's bullshit. I didn't have any special grudges. I didn't fail an exam or get dumped by anybody. All these types. Hurt themselves. I didn't want to especially hurt myself. Or like punish. I don't hate myself. I just wanted out. I didn't want to play anymore is all. I wanted to just stop being conscious. I'm a whole different type. I wanted to stop feeling this way. If I could have just put myself in a really long coma I would have done that. Or given myself shock I would have done that. Instead.”
“Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?”
“They seek him here, they seek him there
Those Frenchies seek him everywhere
Is he in heaven or is he in hell?
That demned elusive Pimpernel”
“…he who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived.”
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