A Quote by Susan Wiggs

Fear and love were sometimes the same thing both necessary unavoidable. Now she understood that it was okay to bleed if you know how to heal. — © Susan Wiggs
Fear and love were sometimes the same thing both necessary unavoidable. Now she understood that it was okay to bleed if you know how to heal.
For exactly the same reason, it is sometimes satisfying to cut yourself and bleed. On those gray [sic] days where eight in the morning looks no different from noon and nothing has happened and nothing is going to happen and you are washing a glass in the sink and it breaks - accidentally - and punctures your skin. And then there is this shocking red, the brightest thing in the day, so vibrant it buzzes, this blood of yours. That is okay sometimes because at least you know you're alive.
Both sin and sickness came into the world through the fall of the human race. Therefore, we must look for the healing of both in the savior of the human race. God is as willing to heal believers as He is to forgive unbelievers. Know this; if He was merciful enough to forgive you when you were unconverted, He is merciful enough to heal you now that you are in His family!
In these last few days, we were close because we were both mortal men. We saw the same sun and the same twilight, we felt the same pull of the earth beneath our feet. We drank together and broke bread together. We might have made love together, if you had only allowed such a thing. But that’s all changed. You have your youth, yes, and all the dizzying wonder that accompanies the miracle. But I still see death when I look at you. I know now I cannot be your companion, and you cannot be mine
I didn't have a chance to buy you anything," she said, then held both closed hands toward him. Uncurled her fingers. In each cupped palm a brown egg. He took them. They were cold. He thought it a tender, wonderful thing to do. She had given him something, the eggs, after all, only a symbol, but they had come from her hands as a gift. To him. It didn't matter that he'd bought them himself at the supermarket the day before. He imagined she understood him, that she had to love him to know that it was the outstreched hands, the giving, that mattered.
It's a known fact, that in life, you can't have everyhing. In my heart, I knew that I loved them both as much as it is possible to love two people at the same time. Conrad and I were linked, we would always be linked. That wasn't something I could do away with. And I know that now--that love isn't something you can erase--no matter how hard you try.
...you could not measure love on a scale of degrees, and now she understood that it was the same with pain. Pain might escalate upward and, just when you thought you'd reach your limit, begin to spread sideways, and spill out, and touch other people, and mix with their pain. And grow larger, but somehow less oppressive. She had thought herself trapped in a place outside the ordinary feeling lives of people; she had not noticed how many other people were trapped in that place with her.
My girlfriend's weird. One day she asked me, 'If you could know how and when you were going to die, would you want to know?' I said, 'No.' She said, 'Okay, forget it.
We were in the same band, but we're two completely different people. People have asked me to make comparisons with our albums, and I can't, because there's no comparison. Her album's okay. I don't think she's the best singer on Earth, but she's okay.
God is okay. He's got big shoulders. He's okay with our - with our questioning and our - you know, I think the bigger the question, the bigger the answer, you know? It may be sickness, it may be loss, it may be disappointment, but sometimes you feel like heaven's silent, that "God, how-how can this be love?" But actually, if you go back to the Word, you know, it just underpins everything.
She sounded as though love were an unfortunate but unavoidable condition.
Both sides so blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see they were all fighting for the same thing.
We think of justice sometimes as getting what you deserve, you know? - ?what crime was committed and what is the punishment for that crime. That's how a lot of the criminal justice works. But God's justice is restorative, so it's not as interested in those same questions of "What did they do wrong?" and "What is the punishment for that?" It's more about what harm was done and how do we heal that harm, and that's a much more redemptive version. So, it definitely doesn't turn a blind eye to harm, but it does say we want to heal the wounds of that.
I feel like I go from strength to strength. What exists in between is the stuff that makes it worth it. I don't know what a triumph is unless I know what a failure is. I welcome both in equal measure because I know they're both temporary anyway. I know they're both unavoidable anyway.
Sarcastic Science, she would like to know, In her complacent ministry of fear, How we propose to get away from here When she has made things so we have to go Or be wiped out. Will she be asked to show Us how by rocket we may hope to steer To some star off there, say, a half light-year Through temperature of absolute zero? Why wait for Science to supply the how When any amateur can tell it now? The way to go away should be the same As fifty million years ago we came- If anyone remembers how that was I have a theory, but it hardly does.
My mom, she had a challenging job raising three kids on her own and having to work at the same time, you know that shows me a lot. It shows me how hard she worked, how much she cared about us and I want to do the same thing for my kids.
Yet there were times when he did love her with all the kindness she demanded, and how was she to know what were those times? Alone she raged against his cheerfulness and put herself at the mercy of her own love and longed to be free of it because it made her less than he and dependent on him. But how could she be free of chains she had put upon herself? Her soul was all tempest. The dreams she had once had of her life were dead. She was in prison in the house. And yet who was her jailer except herself?
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