A Quote by Stonewall Jackson

Madam, if your son were to come home and try to shirk duty, you ought to shut your door in his face and treat him as a renegade unworthy of your name or regard. — © Stonewall Jackson
Madam, if your son were to come home and try to shirk duty, you ought to shut your door in his face and treat him as a renegade unworthy of your name or regard.
Shut your mouth! You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare —
Okay," I said. "I'd hoped to avoid this, but... Bill, I rescind your invitation into my house." Bill began walking backward to the door, a helpless look on his face, and my brush still in his hand. Eric grinned at him triumphantly. "Eric," I said, and his smile faded. "I rescind your invitation into my house." And backward he went, out my door and off my porch. The door slammed shut behind (or maybe in front of?) them.
When there is love, there is no duty. When you love your wife, you share everything with her-your property, your trouble, your anxiety, your joy. You do not dominate. You are not the man and she is not the woman to be used and thrown aside, a sort of breeding machine to carry on your name. When there is love, the word duty disappears.
Your first obligation, I suppose, is to your God. Your second is to your family. And your third is to your community. And you ought to try to fulfill all of those in your life.
People should see your faith. If all you do is talk about your faith and people don't see it, but they ought to see it in the way you treat your family, you treat your friends, you treat your community.
You must make your choice: either this man was, and is, the Son of God, or else a madman or something worse. You can shut him up for a fool, you can spit at him and kill him as a demon; or you can fall at his feet and call him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.
Nobody can shut the door in your face if you own the door.
You can't have an honest fourth grade school teacher. Mr. and Mrs. Jones, Johnny, your son, your only child, the fruit of your loin, is a moron. I have no idea how this kid finds a door to get out of the house in the morning. If I were you, I would waste him and start over. Now, I say that with all due respect.
If you treat your feelings with as much love as you treat your dog or your cat or your child you'll feel as if you were living in heaven.
I've thought for years, sometimes against my will, about what kind of son I'm supposed to be, what's expected. Being Korean, that's a particularly charged question. Is your duty to your culture or to your parent? Is your life your own, or the second half of your parents' life? Who owns your life?
A boy is a magical creature you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can't lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can't get him out of your mind. Might as well give up he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing bundle of noise. But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words Hi, Dad!
It is easy to say that you can adopt the whole human race as your children, but it is not the same as living in a home with a child and shaping all you do to help him learn to be happy and whole and good. Don't live your life without ever holding a child in your arms, on your lap, in your home, and feeling a child's arms around you and hearing his voice in your ear and seeing his smile, given to you because you put it into your heart.
If you treat your children at home in the same way you treat your animals in the lab, your wife will scratch your eyes out. My wife ferociously warned me against experimenting on her babies.
If you simply take the name of Christ upon you and call yourself His servant, yet do not obey Him, but follow your own whim, or your own hereditary prejudice, or the custom of some erroneous church-you are no servant of Christ. If you really are a servant of Christ, your first duty is to obey Him.
Since we’re playing that game… I tilted my face up to his and gave him a lovesick gaze. “Do you have to sneeze?” he asked. “Be quiet. I’m pretending to enjoy your company, just as you said.” “Try not to strain anything.” “Oh, I won’t. I’m very good at faking it.” That shut him up.
Darken your room, shut the door, empty your mind. Yet you are still in great company - the Numen and your Genius with all their media, and your host of elementals and ghosts of your dead loves — are there! They need no light by which to see, no words to speak, no motive to enact except through your own purely formed desire.
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