A Quote by Richard Francis Burton
Travellers, like poets, are mostly an angry race: by falling into a daily fit of passion, I proved to the governor and his son, who were profuse in their attentions, that I was in earnest.
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What we have to understand that we have to believe into things which can be proved. Now the time has come that Divine itself has to be proved. That God Almighty has to be proved. That Christ as a son of God has to be proved, that His birth as immaculate conception has to be proved. Not by argument, not by reasoning, nor by blind faith but by actualization on your central nervous system.
God intends us to be like gods, he intends us to be like the Son of God. ... God has conceived in His heart of a plan to make a race of men that would live like gods on the Earth. He has conceived in His heart to have Sons that would live like His Son, the Lord Jesus lived... That we were to be on earth the extension and manifestation of God's life in heaven.
A woman can be physically fit enough to drive a Formula 1 car. I did the race distance in Barcelona so I have proved that it is possible.
The great reason why we have so little good preaching is that we have so little piety. To be eloquent one must be in earnest; he must not only act as if he were in earnest, or try to be in earnest, but be in earnest.
...when I was angry at God because I couldn't go to my son, hold him, and comfort him, God's son was holding my son in his lap.
But are not the dreams of poets and the tales of travellers notoriously false?
California has gone insane. According to the latest poll, Arnold Schwarzenegger is leading in California's governor's race by 34 points. You can tell that Governor Gray Davis is worried because he spent all day yesterday working on his pecs.
If I wasn't Eddie Albert's son, I'd be someone else's. It gave me a chance to do a lot of traveling, but mostly I'm glad I'm his son because he's such a good man.
The men who made the war were profuse in their praises of the man who kicked the P.M. out of his office and now degrades by his disloyal, dishonest and lying presence the greatest office in the State.
I started moving away from poets like Wallace Stevens and Hart Crane and started reading poets like, again, Karl Shapiro, Howard Nemerov, Philip Larkin, and the British poets who were imported through that important anthology put together by Alvarez - and those would include Thom Gunn and Ted Hughes. And I think these poets gave me assurance that there were other ways to write besides the rather involuted style of high modernism whose high priests were Pound, Eliot and Stevens, and Crane perhaps.
As an attorney, judge, state representative, two-term Lieutenant Governor, and an athlete inducted into the LSU Athletic Hall of Fame as a member of the LSU Boxing Team, Bobby Freeman's passion for serving the people of Louisiana and his talent were on display in everything he did throughout his life.
My legacy as governor was UConn and the cities. This is my passion. When I was governor, I would call Waterbury the center of the universe.
Zagreus was the son of Zeus. He was slain by the Titans, buried at the foot of Mount Parnassus, and rose from the dead as Dionysos. He was the god of fruit and wine. Like those of Christ his most devoted followers were women. He is the beloved son and occupies a throne at the right hand of his father, Zeus. His empty tomb at Delphi was long preserved by his devotees as proof of his death, and resurrection.
After my son died, I went to a psychiatrist. He proved - or I proved - that Sigmund Freud was correct when he said that the Irish are impervious to psychoanalysis.
The leaves are falling, falling as from way off, as though far gardens withered in the skies; they are falling with denying gestures. And in the nights the heavy earth is falling from all the stars down into loneliness. We all are falling. This hand falls. And look at others: it is in them all. And yet there is one who holds this falling endlessly gently in his hands.
Was it me you were discussing?” he countered with lifted brows. “I couldn’t tell from the description you were giving. Since when am I kind, considerate, refined, and amiable?” “You’re angry,” Victoria concluded on a sigh. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest and his arms tightened, drawing her close to his leann, muscular body. “I’m not angry,” he said in a husky, gentle voice. “I’m embarrassed
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