A Quote by William Shakespeare

No .... holy father, throw away that thought.
Believe not that the dribbling dart of love
Can pierce a complete bosom. — © William Shakespeare
No .... holy father, throw away that thought. Believe not that the dribbling dart of love Can pierce a complete bosom.
When I throw a dart, even when I'm looking I know if I've missed or hit as soon as I release the dart.
People tell me I'm the first in dribbling. But it's important that, after dribbling, I cross or pass or score. If I don't, then dribbling is pointless.
Loving a holy God is beyond our moral power. The only kind of God we can love by our sinful nature is an unholy god, an idol made by our own hands. Unless we are born of the Spirit of God, unless God sheds His holy love in our hearts, unless He stoops in His grace to change our hearts, we will not love Him... To love a holy God requires grace, grace strong enough to pierce our hardened hearts and awaken our moribund souls.
My godfather was a man named Justin Dart. Some of you may remember Justin Dart. My younger son's name is Justin, named after Justin Dart. I was executor of his estate, and he was my godfather. I first really got time to spend with Ronald Reagan with Justin Dart personally, one-on-one.
But by my love and hope I beseech you: do not throw away the hero in your soul! Hold holy your highest hope!
Night by night I will lie down and sleep in the thought of God, and in the thought, too, that my waking may be in the bosom of the Father; and some time it will be, so I trust.
Consider that the Holy Spirit lives in the spiritual father, and He will tell you what to do. But if you think that the spiritual father live negligently, and that the Holy Spirit can't live in him, you will suffer mightily for such a thought, and the Lord will humble you, and you will straightway fall into delusion.
Kill what you can't save what you can't eat throw out what you can't throw out bury What you can't bury give away what you can't give away you must carry with you, it is always heavier than you thought.
This is something that, as artists, we constantly deal with-throwing away the past, slaying the father, and creating the new. This desire to throw away the old rules.
I don't believe in the Holy Trinity - but I do believe in the Holy Ghost. The Holy Spook is just a friendly way of saying Holy Ghost.
Throw away holiness and wisdom, and people will be a hundred times happier. Throw away morality and justice, and people will do the right thing. Throw away industry and profit, and there won't be any thieves. If these three aren't enough, just stay at the center of the circle and let all things take their course.
Fathers who compete hard with their kids are monstrous. The father, for a throw-away victory, is sacrificing the very heart of hischild's sense of being good enough. He may believe he is making his son tough, as he was made tough by a similarly contending father, but he is only making his child desperate and mean like himself. Fathers must let their sons (and daughters) have their victories.
The Father, Who is Justice, is not without the Son or the Holy Spirit; and the Holy Spirit, Who kindles the heart of the faithful, is not without the Father and the Son; and the Son, Who is the plenitude of fruition, is not without the Father or the Holy Spirit; they are inseparable in Divine Majesty.
I never ever would have thought initially it would have been someone like Pierce playing Charles. I think he has an innate likeability to him, as soon as you meet him he's very, very charismatic. Charles, on the page, was someone who's very domineering and quite a negative character, and Pierce just by being Pierce can change the whole dynamic of it, which made for a much for interesting relationship. He's a really nice guy.
My father! The sun is my father, and the earth is my mother, and on her bosom I will recline.
I know you can throw holy water on the vampire, but I didn't know you could throw the host." (Sheriff St. John) I had to smile. "They aren't like little holy grenades. I want the host to give to the Quinlans so they can put one at every windowsill, every doorsill." (Anita Blake)
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