A Quote by Tehmina Durrani

To me, my husband was my son's murderer. He was also my daughter's molester. A parasite nibbling on the Holy Book, he was Lucifer, holding me by the throat and driving me to sin every night. He was Bhai's destroyer, Amma Sain's tormentor, Ma's humbler and the people's exploiter. He was the rapist of orphans and the fiend that fed on the weak. But over and above all this, he was known to be the man closest to Allah, the one who could reach Him and save us.
Under patriarchy, every woman's son is her potential betrayer and also the inevitable rapist or exploiter of another woman.
Under patriarchy, no woman is safe to live her life, or to love, or to mother children. Under patriarchy, every woman is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's daughter is a victim, past, present, and future. Under patriarchy, every woman's son is her potential betrayer and also the inevitable rapist or exploiter of another woman.
He sank into that kiss, and fed from me like a starving man holding off famine. I drank from his soul in preparation for the drought to come. And when he finally pulled away, my throat was thick with unspoken words, my heart heavy with every apology I'd ever denied him. But it was too late for promises. The time had come for goodbye.
He tasted deeper, holding himself over me, and suddenly he was everywhere; his knee trapping my leg, his lips grazing warm, rough, sensuous. He splayed his hand at the small of my back, holding me tightly, driving me to sink my fingers deeper into him, clinging to him as if letting go would mean losing part of myself.
In an industry where actors are known to steal scenes and roles from under your nose Sohail bhai has been going out of his way to be good to me. It's true he got me Subhash Ghai's 'Paying Guest.' The role was offered to Sohail bhai. When he couldn't do it, he recommended me.
Help me reach a friend in darkness; Help me guide him through the night. Help me show thy path to glory By the Spirit's holy light. . . .
If Christ has died for me, ungodly as I am, without strength as I am, then I cannot live in sin any longer. I must arouse myself to love and serve Him who has redeemed me. I cannot trifle with the evil that killed my best Friend. I must be holy for His sake. How can I live in sin when He has died to save me from it?
The thought of a man being the murderer of his own daughter in the Twin Peaks was anathema to me. At the time, I had a 2-year-old daughter of my own, and that possibility really turned me off. I was praying that I wouldn't be the one.
God is nearer to us than any man at every time. He is nearer to me than my raiment, nearer than the air or light, nearer than my wife, father, mother, daughter, son, or friend. I live in Him, soul and body. I breathe in Him, think in Him, feel, consider, intend, speak, undertake, work in Him.
My husband's a stunt man, and he dragged me to stunt driving school with him because I hate driving and he felt that it would help to make me feel more comfortable. And it did in certain ways, and in certain ways I'm still not.
Repentance out of mere fear is really sorrow for the consequences of sin, sorrow over the danger of sin — it bends the will away from sin, but the heart still clings. But repentance out of conviction over mercy is really sorrow over sin, sorrow over the grievousness of sin — it melts the heart away from sin. It makes the sin itself disgusting to us, so it loses its attractive power over us. We say, ‘this disgusting thing is an affront to the one who died for me. I’m continuing to stab him with it!’
I'm just blessed that I was able to have guys around me that had some of the same goals. The man above gave me a gift and he gave me friends and a mentor that can help me reach my goal and reach my potential. And we all had the same goal, so it wasn't hard for us to get, you know, off track because we all wanted the same thing.
He is my other eyes that can see above the clouds; my other ears that hear above the winds. He is the part of me that can reach out into the sea. He has told me a thousand times over that I am his reason for being; by the way he rests against my leg; by the way he thumps his tail at my smallest smile; by the way he shows his hurt when I leave without taking him. (I think it makes him sick with worry when he is not along to care for me.)
I just have a heart filled with gratitude for a wonderful family. My wife, Karen, is the love of my life, and she campaigned with me virtually every day of 130-some odd days of the campaign trail, as did our daughter, Charlotte, traveled all over the country with us. But my son, who just got married to his college sweetheart, and our youngest daughter - just am grateful for a family that has supported me in my calling to public service.
The night I turned twenty-two, I drank a shot for every year. I was so drunk, I'd just walk up to people in the bar and hit them in the balls. My friends drove me home and left me propped up on the couch holding a bucket. I woke up with vomit all over me. The bucket was clean as a whistle.
She freshens me up above a bit. Who'd ha thought that face - as bright and as strong as the angel I dream of - could have known the sorrow she speaks on? I wonder how she'll sin. All on us must sing.
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