A disastrous flaw in our design is that the heart always defies the brain.
Rather than idolizing perfection, we must choose to cherish what is real. To truly live is to love deeply, to get messy, to sometimes get hurt, and to stumble and fall. It is worth it. The alternative of living a life barren of these things in the pursuit of perfection would be tragically uninteresting.
The minute I’m in a little pain … your rough, tough, scary bad boy image totally falls apart.
A bunch of Angels waving their hands at someone, giving them extraordinary and miraculous abilities, doesn’t make anyone holy,
Suicide is not chosen; it happens when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.
If you can sit with your pain, listen to your pain and respect your pain – in time you will move through your pain.
The pains in my heart don’t go away these days. The heartaches are chronic; they layer on top of each other from one day to the next, thickening like a callus.
Why can’t I be like that? Why can’t I be the father who just shrugs off the love of his daughter? Why can’t I be the Lead Inquisitor who enjoys watching his pleading victims burn at the stake? Why can’t I be the one who befriends a lonely, lost girl and then casts her out? Why can’t I be the one to strike first, to hit so early and with such fury that my enemies cower before they can ever think of turning on me? What is so great about being good?
You’ll see some bad things, but if you didn’t see them, they’d still be happening.