A Quote by Mary Karr

In my godless household, poems were the closest we came to sacred speech -- the only prayers said. — © Mary Karr
In my godless household, poems were the closest we came to sacred speech -- the only prayers said.
It was of tremendous comfort. I always said my prayers at night. My mother taught actually me to say prayers at night but most of it came from the church.
I don't recite prayers as a blanket rule, but having said that, I do believe that prayers like The Our Father and Hail Mary are powerful prayers.
In liberal society we claim that freedom of speech is sacred and therefore has an absolute character. But we know (or should know) that "free speech" inhabits a structured space: not only is "hate speech" legally forbidden in liberal societies, but there are also laws protecting the circulation of copyrighted material, and the reproduction of trademarks and patents without explicit permission.
The Yogic scriptures say that God responds to the sacred prayers and efforts of human beings in any way whatsoever that mortals choose to worship - just so long as those prayers are sincere.
I was always embarresed by the words 'sacred,' 'glorious,' and 'sacrifice' and the expression 'in vain.' We had heard them, sometimes standing in the rain almost out of earshot, so that only the shouted words came through, and had read them on proclamations that were slapped up by billposters over other proclamations, now for a long time, and I had seen nothing sacred, and the things that were glorious had no glory and the sacrifices were like the stock yards at Chicago if nothing was done with the meat except to bury it.
If the Government is going to intrude upon the sacred ground of the First Amendment and tell its citizens that their exercise of protected speech could land them in jail, the law imposing such a penalty must clearly define the prohibited speech not only for the potential offender but also for the potential enforcer.
In the beginning of the contest with Britain, when we were sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for Divine protection," he stated. "Our prayers, Sir, were heard, and they were graciously answered. ... Do we imagine we no longer need His assistance?
You, mother, are not responsible to set the whole world right; you are responsible only to make one pure, sacred, and divine household.
Here were decent godless people; Their only monument the asphalt road And a thousand lost golf balls.
When Donald Trump won the election because when I came into the show, I said, I think this guy can win. This was when he first came down that escalator. He gave his first speech.
My obsessions tend to cluster, so I often have families of poems in which only a couple of them make it to the book. It can be satisfying to banish poems to my "crappy poems" file.
As I have always said, those closest to the pain should be closest to the power.
If you're offended, what the Supreme Court has said the answer to speech you do not like is not less speech, it's more speech. There are many people in America who don't get that.
Let's just say my phone blew up when I came out on global television. The only people that knew were my immediate family members and my closest friends, maybe like three of them. So you can imagine how many texts and emails and Facebook messages that I got after coming out, most of which were very supportive from the LGBT community.
My mother ran the household. In grade school, I came home crying one day. She said, 'What's wrong?' and I said, 'This kid said he was going to jump on me.' She grabbed me and slammed me on the floor. 'If you don't go out there and stand up for yourself, it's going to be me and you.' I didn't want that to happen.
Finn, listen!" Trevanion said, his voice raw."I prayed to see you one more time. It's all I prayed for. Nothing more. And my prayers were answered. Go east, I'll lend them west." "We have a dilemma, then," Finnikin said fiercely. "Because I prayed that you would grow old and hold my children in your arms as you held me. My prayers have not been answered yet, Trevanion. So whose prayer is more worthy? Yours or mine?
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