A Quote by Rory O'Malley
Elder McKinley wants his homosexuality to be turned off. To be a perfect Mormon, he has to put his feelings away.
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I love how passionate Elder McKinley is about his faith, but he's a perfectionist in a bad way... to the point he denies his true feelings. It's a common story, unfortunately.
I found myself thinking about President William McKinley, the third American president to be assassinated. He lived for several days after he was shot, and towards the end, his wife started crying and screaming, "I want to go too! I want to go too!" And with his last measure of strength, McKinley turned to her and spoke his last words: "We are all going.
The doctors take the bodily evidence as the disease. . . . disease is itself an impudent opinion. He throws off the feelings of the sick and imparts to them his own which are perfect health, and his explanation destroys their feelings or disease. . . . He is like a captain who knows his business and feels confident in a storm, and his confidence sustains the crew and ship when both would be lost if the captain should give way to his fears.
In homosexual love the passion is homosexuality itself. What a homosexual loves, as if it were his lover, his country, his art, his land, is homosexuality.
The feelings that Beethoven put into his music were the feelings of a god. There was something olympian in his snarls and rages, and there was a touch of hellfire in his mirth.
God is bigger than time,
dates, and appointments.
He wants you to move
through this day with a quiet heart,
an inward assurance that
He is in control, a peaceful certainty
that your life is in His hands,
a deep trust in His plan and purposes,
and a thankful disposition,
toward all that He allows.
He wants you to put your faith in Him,
not in a timetable.
He wants you to wait on Him
and wait for Him.
In His perfect way He will put everything
together, see to every detail...
arrange every circumstance...
and order every step to bring
to pass what He has for you.
A man should keep his little brain attic stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he wants it.
When the Spirit of God comes into us, He wants to be Himself in us. He wants His energy to be poured through us. He wants His wisdom to be deposited in our hearts. He wants His instinct and nature to be evident and obvious in you.He wants us to see what He is looking at, to feel what He feels, to know what He knows, to work with His projects, see life the way He sees it, get His ideas and know His opinion about yourself and others.
It was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
Once upon a time, a long time ago, a man took off his jacket and put on a sweater. Then he took off his shoes and put on a pair of sneakers. His name was Fred Rogers.
Man is born with his face turned away from God. When he truly repents, he is turned right round toward God; he leaves his old life.
Real bibliophiles do not put their books on shelves for people to look at or handle. They have no desire to show off their darlings, or to amaze people with their possessions. They keep their prized books hidden away in a secret spot to which they resort stealthily, like a Caliph visiting his harem, or a church elder sneaking into a bar. To be a book collector is to combine the worst characteristics of a dope-fiend with those of a miser.
A man who knows the court is master of his gestures, of his eyes and of his face; he is profound, impenetratable; he dissimulates bad offices, smiles at his enemies, controls his irritation, disguises his passions, belies his heartm speaks and acts against his feelings.
There you are!” he shouted at them. “Father has half the castle turned out looking for you.” “Us?” Hadrian asked. “Yes.” Fanen nodded. “He wants to see the two thieves in his chambers right away.” “You didn’t steal the silver or anything, did you, Royce?” Hadrian asked. “I would bet it has more to do with your flirting with Lenare this afternoon and threatening Mauvin just to show off,” Royce retorted. “That was your fault,” Hadrian said, jabbing his finger at him.
Every man, in judging of himself, is his own contemporary. He may feel the gale of popularity, but he cannot tell how long it will last. His opinion of himself wants distance, wants time, wants numbers, to set it off and confirm it.
Across from me at the next row of supports Jim raised his hand and touched his fingers to his thumb a few times, imitating an opening and closing beak. Negotiate. He wanted me to engage a lunatic who had already turned four people into smoking meat. Okay. I could do that. “Alright, Jeremy!” I yelled into the night. “Give me the salamander and I won’t cut your head off!” Jim put his hand over his face and did some shaking. I thought he was laughing, but I couldn’t be sure.
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