B Patience Quotes

Get to part B, Daniel. Think fast. Patience is a virtue, and you know how Cam feels about those.

Cultivate your craft. Water it daily, pour some tender loving care into it, and watch it grow. Remember that a plant doesn’t sprout immediately. Be patient, and know that in life you will reap what you sow.

How do we observe patience?” “In the same manner that we fast; completely certain that the adhān of Maghrib will eventually be called.

Patience is a virtue. (Tee) Excuse me, pot, could you not pick on the kettle? (Joe)

In any contest between power and patience, bet on patience.

A: So you intend to return to your desert? B: I am not quick moving. I have to wait for myself— it is always late before the water comes to light out of the well of my self, and I often have to endure thirst for longer than I have patience. That is why I go into solitude— so as not to drink out of everybody’s cistern. When I am among the many I live as the many do, and I do not think as I really think; after a time it always seems as though they want to banish me from myself and rob me of my soul— and I grow angry with everybody and fear everybody. I then require the desert, so as to grow good again.

Everyone should be afraid of those who can embroider. We have the patience to keep stabbing the same thing over and over again.

Pink reminds me of my love for dance. My youth. The innocence of being young. Tutus. Strawberry frosting on a vanilla cake (my favorite). And lipstick. I love lipstick. It also reminds me that I should take pride in my feminine traits, in being a woman. There is nothing remotely wrong with enjoying femininity. Curves. Hips. Lips. Empathy. Vulnerability. Sensuality. Patience. Intuition.

So I invite all of you to show our own species the same patience and compassion that we show dogs. After all, dogs seem to like us a lot, and I have the utmost respect for their opinion.

The tension of constructing an explanation, from A to B to C to D, apparently so simple a task, irritates many people with ADD. While they can hold the information in mind, they do not have the patience to sequentially put it out. That is too tedious. They would like to dump the information in a heap on the floor all at once and have it be comprehended instantly. Otherwise,

I'm not saying it's going to be easy; I'm saying it's going to be worth it. If it was easy, you would've done it by now

The appeal of magic is that it promises to render objects plastic to the will without one’s getting too entangled with them. Treated from arm’s length, the object can issue no challenge to the self. According to Freud, this is precisely the condition of the narcissist: he treats objects as props for his fragile ego and has an uncertain grasp of them as having a reality of their own. The clearest contrast to the narcissist that I can think of is the repairman, who must subordinate himself to the broken washing machine, listen to it with patience, notice its symptoms, and then act accordingly. He cannot treat it abstractly; the kind of agency he exhibits is not at all magical.

It's just such an odd response to my fiction. Like, okay, follow the thread of thoughts with me: 'I really enjoyed this story about Rey and Chewbacca's romantic adventure scavenging a wrecked Tulgah spaceship on Endor in search of the fame Tulgah patience potion: as a thank-you, I believe I will send the author of that story a photograph of my dick.' How do you get from A to B, Holmesy?

David’s mouth dripped open slowly. He stood with his heels dug into my carpet, a dashed hope, a broken dream. No amount of money could top the priceless look that gathered on his face like an unmade bed. His eyebrows crumpled and furrowed like disheveled sheets. His lips curled into an acidic smirk. Confusion and shock collided in the cornea of his dilated pupils. He was a B.B. King song, personified. His entire body sang the blues.

Believing isn’t the hard part; waiting on God is. So I stuck with it and prayed impatiently for patience, and to stop feeling disgusted by myself, and to believe for a few moments that God, just a bit busy with other suffering in the world, actually cared about one menopausal white woman on a binge.

To wait is not merely to remain impassive. It is to expect- to look for with patience, and also with submission. It is to long for, but not impatiently; to look for, but not to fret at the delay; to watch for, but not restlessly; to feel that if He does come we will acquiesce, and yet to refuse to let the mind acquiesce in the feeling that He will not come.

Patience is indispensable in the life of the Muslim.

ʿAlī b. Abū Ṭālib said: “I will be patient even until my patience tires of my patience.

We can only bear the fruit of patience when we have something to be patient about.

Deception is the natural defence of the weak against the strong, and the South used it for many years against its conquerors; to-day it must be prepared to see its black proletariat turn that same two-edged weapon against itself. And how natural this is! The death of Denmark Vesey and Nat Turner proved long since to the Negro the present hopelessness of physical defence. Political defence is becoming less and less available, and economic defence is still only partially effective. But there is a patent defence at hand,—the defence of deception and flattery, of cajoling and lying. It is the same defence which peasants of the Middle Age used and which left its stamp on their character for centuries. To-day the young Negro of the South who would succeed cannot be frank and outspoken, honest and self-assertive, but rather he is daily tempted to be silent and wary, politic and sly; he must flatter and be pleasant, endure petty insults with a smile, shut his eyes to wrong; in too many cases he sees positive personal advantage in deception and lying. His real thoughts, his real aspirations, must be guarded in whispers; he must not criticise, he must not complain. Patience, humility, and adroitness must, in these growing black youth, replace impulse, manliness, and courage. With this sacrifice there is an economic opening, and perhaps peace and some prosperity. Without this there is riot, migration, or crime. Nor is this situation peculiar to the Southern United States, is it not rather the only method by which undeveloped races have gained the right to share modern culture? The price of culture is a Lie.

The transition from grief to healing entails patience and tiny doses of acceptance until one finds the strength to let go and move on. And even if it doesn't seem so, one is never alone.

Robert Hall was once overheard saying amid the heat of an argument, "Calm me, O Lamb of God!" But we may go further and say, "Lord Jesus, let Your patience arise in me, as a spring of fresh water in a briny sea.

By the middle of the eighteenth century the black slave had sunk, with hushed murmurs, to his place at the bottom of a new economic system, and was unconsciously ripe for a new philosophy of life. Nothing suited his condition then better than the doctrines of passive submission embodied in the newly learned Christianity. Slave masters early realized this, and cheerfully aided religious propaganda within certain bounds. The long system of repression and degradation of the Negro tended to emphasize the elements of his character which made him a valuable chattel: courtesy became humility, moral strength degenerated into submission, and the exquisite native appreciation of the beautiful became an infinite capacity for dumb suffering. The Negro, losing the joy of this world, eagerly seized upon the offered conceptions of the next; the avenging Spirit of the Lord enjoining patience in this world, under sorrow and tribulation until the Great Day when He should lead His dark children home,—this became his comforting dream.

Patience, Humility, Manners, and Taste, common schools and kindergartens, industrial and technical schools, literature and tolerance,—all these spring from knowledge and culture, the children of the university. So must men and nations build, not otherwise, not upside down.

How’d you like to hang out with me in my bus after the show?” I drop my head back, pray for patience, and look back to find Ansel staring heatedly at my neck. “Is that code for ‘do you wanna go fuck after I get off work’? Because I gotta tell you, I’ve heard that about a thousand times too many, and hearing it again makes me want to go Lorena Bobbitt all over the nearest penis.” Ansel’s face grows impossibly paler, and he cups his junk.

Chapter 90: [This] Countryside I swear by [this] countryside, you are a native settled on this land, as well as any parent and whatever he may father. We have created man under stress. Does he reckon that no one can do anything against him? He says: "I have used up piles of money!" Does he consider that no one sees him? Have we not granted him both eyes, a tongue and two lips, and guided him along both highroads? Yet he does not tackle the Obstacle! What will make you realize what the Obstacle is? It means redeeming the captive, or feeding some orphaned relative on a day of famine or some needy person in distress. Then he will act like someone who believes, recommends patience and encourages mercifulness. Those will be the companions on the right-hand side, while the ones who disbelieve in Our signs will be companions on the sinister side: above them a fire will hem them in.

I therefore,  m a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to  n walk in a manner worthy of  o the calling to which you have been called, 2with all  p humility and  q gentleness, with  r patience,  s bearing with one another in love, 3eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in  t the bond of peace. 4There is  u one body and  v one Spirit—just as you were called to the one  w hope that belongs to your call— 5 x one Lord,  y one faith,  z one baptism, 6 a one God and Father of all,  b who is over all and through all and in all.

There were countless fugitive slaves, but only one - Dred Scott - had the patience to endure the vicissitudes of America's legal system. But it was all worth it when he made it to the highest court in the land and was told by the chief justice that he was a) wrong and b) not a man, but a piece of property. His true reward, however, would come years later, after he was dead and it was of no use to him. For his case was a precedent, and today it is discussed by historians, memorized by high-school students, and joked about by assholes like myself.

Epictetus explained what becoming a Cynic would entail: “You must utterly put away the will to get, and must will to avoid only what lies within the sphere of your will: you must harbour no anger, wrath, envy, pity: a fair maid, a fair name, favourites, or sweet cakes, must mean nothing to you.” A Cynic, he explained, “must have the spirit of patience in such measure as to seem to the multitude as unfeeling as a stone. Reviling or blows or insults are nothing to him.”2 Few people, one imagines, had the courage and endurance to live the life of a Cynic. The

Teach me.” The words escape me without thought, and I lift my pleading eyes to meet her puzzled expression . “I don’t know how to do this, Spence. How to love like you do. To live like you do.” I pause briefly, trying to figure a way to explain so she will understand. “Emotions such as trust and compassion, feelings of patience and empathy – those gifts that come so naturally for you – I’ve never been able to understand, much less exercise. I need you to teach me because I want to be able to give you everything you deserve. And you deserve someone as flawless as you.

What place in the future development of the South ought the Negro college and college-bred man to occupy? That the present social separation and acute race-sensitiveness must eventually yield to the influences of culture, as the South grows civilized, is clear. But such transformation calls for singular wisdom and patience. If, while the healing of this vast sore is progressing, the races are to live for many years side by side, united in economic effort, obeying a common government, sensitive to mutual thought and feeling, yet subtly and silently separate in many matters of deeper human intimacy,—if this unusual and dangerous development is to progress amid peace and order, mutual respect and growing intelligence, it will call for social surgery at once the delicatest and nicest in modern history. It will demand broad-minded, upright men, both white and black, and in its final accomplishment American civilization will triumph. So far as white men are concerned, this fact is to-day being recognized in the South, and a happy renaissance of university education seems imminent. But the very voices that cry hail to this good work are, strange to relate, largely silent or antagonistic to the higher education of the Negro. Strange to relate! for this is certain, no secure civilization can be built in the South with the Negro as an ignorant, turbulent proletariat.

I have two settings as a dad: normal and special mode. Normal mode is used with my eldest son, aged eight. It involves all the regular dad stuff, such as knowing the answers to every possible question, teaching him to ride his bike and generally being hands-on and involved. Special mode is quite different. All of the skills of normal mode apply, and then some. Special mode involves enormous powers of endurance, negotiation, problem solving, vigilance, strength, forbearance, deciphering, arbitration and above all, patience. To be honest, I’m a bit rubbish at all of those things but I strive for them nonetheless, because special mode is required for my youngest son, aged five and diagnosed as high functioning autistic. The two styles of parenting could not be more different.

« Écoute, Egor Pétrovitch, lui dit-il. Qu’est ce que tu fais de toi ? Tu te perds seulement avec ton désespoir. Tu n’as ni patience ni courage. Maintenant, dans un accès de tristesse, tu dis que tu n’as pas de talent. Ce n’est pas vrai. Tu as du talent ; je t’assure que tu en as. Je le vois rien qu’à la façon dont tu sens et comprends l’art. Je te le prouverai par toute ta vie. Tu m’as raconté ta vie d’autrefois. À cette époque aussi le désespoirte visitait sans que tu t’en rendisses compte. À cette époque aussi, ton premier maître, cet homme étrange, dont tu m’as tant parlé, a éveillé en toi, pour la première fois, l’amour de l’art et a deviné ton talent. Tu l’as senti alors aussi fortement que maintenant. Mais tu ne savais pas ce qui se passait en toi. Tu ne pouvais pas vivre dans la maison du propriétaire, et tu ne savais toi-même ce que tu désirais. Ton maître est mort trop tôt. Il t’a laissé seulement avec des aspirations vagues et, surtout, il ne t’a pas expliqué toimême. Tu sentais le besoin d’une autre route plus large, tu pressentais que d’autres buts t’étaient destinés, mais tu ne comprenais pas comment tout cela se ferait et, dans ton angoisse, tu as haï tout ce qui t’entourait alors. Tes six années de misère ne sont pas perdues. Tu as travaillé, pensé, tu as reconnu et toi-même et tes forces ; tu comprends maintenant l’art et ta destination. Mon ami, il faut avoir de la patience et du courage. Un sort plus envié que le mien t’est réservé. Tu es cent fois plus artiste que moi, mais que Dieu te donne même la dixième partie de ma patience. Travaille, ne bois pas, comme te le disait ton bonpropriétaire, et, principalement, commence par l’a, b, c. « Qu’est-ce qui te tourmente ? La pauvreté, la misère ? Mais la pauvreté et la misère forment l’artiste. Elles sont inséparables des débuts. Maintenant personne n’a encore besoin de toi ; personne ne veut te connaître. Ainsi va le monde. Attends, ce sera autre chose quand on saura que tu as du talent. L’envie, la malignité, et surtout la bêtise t’opprimeront plus fortement que la misère. Le talent a besoin de sympathie ; il faut qu’on le comprenne. Et toi, tu verras quelles gens t’entoureront quand tu approcheras du but. Ils tâcheront de regarder avec mépris ce qui s’est élaboré en toi au prix d’un pénible travail, des privations, des nuits sans sommeil. Tes futurs camarades ne t’encourageront pas, ne te consoleront pas. Ils ne t’indiqueront pas ce qui en toi est bon et vrai. Avec une joie maligne ils relèveront chacune de tes fautes. Ils te montreront précisément ce qu’il y a de mauvais en toi, ce en quoi tu te trompes, et d’un air calme et méprisant ils fêteront joyeusement chacune de tes erreurs. Toi, tu esorgueilleux et souvent à tort. Il t’arrivera d’offenser une nullité qui a de l’amour-propre, et alors malheur à toi : tu seras seul et ils seront plusieurs. Ils te tueront à coups d’épingles. Moi même, je commence à éprouver tout cela. Prends donc des forces dès maintenant. Tu n’es pas encore si pauvre. Tu peux encore vivre ; ne néglige pas les besognes grossières, fends du bois, comme je l’ai fait un soir chez de pauvres gens. Mais tu es impatient ; l’impatience est ta maladie. Tu n’as pas assez de simplicité ; tu ruses trop, tu réfléchis trop, tu fais trop travailler ta tête. Tu es audacieux en paroles et lâche quand il faut prendra l’archet en main. Tu as beaucoup d’amour-propre et peu de hardiesse. Sois plus hardi, attends, apprends, et si tu ne comptes pas sur tes forces, alors va au hasard ; tu as de la chaleur, du sentiment, peut-être arriveras-tu au but. Sinon, va quand même au hasard. En tout cas tu ne perdras rien, si le gain est trop grand. Vois-tu, aussi, le hasard pour nous est une grande chose. »

Deep humility. Examination: Have I looked down on anyone? Have I been too stung by criticism? Have I felt snubbed and ignored? Consider the free grace of Jesus until I sense (a) decreasing disdain, since I am a sinner too, and (b) decreasing pain over criticism, since I should not value human approval over God’s love. In light of his grace, I can let go of the need to keep up a good image—it is too great a burden and is now unnecessary. I reflect on free grace until I experience grateful, restful joy. A well-guided zeal. Examination: Have I avoided people or tasks that I know I should face? Have I been anxious and worried? Have I failed to be circumspect, or have I been rash and impulsive? Consider the free grace of Jesus until there is (a) no cowardly avoidance of hard things, since Jesus faced evil for me, and (b) no anxious or rash behavior, since Jesus’ death proves that God cares and will watch over me. It takes pride to be anxious, and I recognize I am not wise enough to know how my life should go. I reflect on free grace until I experience calm thoughtfulness and strategic boldness. A burning love. Examination: Have I spoken or thought unkindly of anyone? Am I justifying myself by caricaturing someone else in my mind? Have I been impatient and irritable? Have I been self-absorbed, indifferent, and inattentive to people? Consider the free grace of Jesus until there is (a) no coldness or unkindness, as I think of the sacrificial love of Christ for me, (b) no impatience, as I think of his patience with me, and (c) no indifference, as I think of how God is infinitely attentive to me. I reflect on free grace until I feel some warmth and affection. A “single” eye. Examination: Am I doing what I do for God’s glory and the good of others, or am I being driven by fears, need for approval, love of comfort and ease, need for control, hunger for acclaim and power, or the fear of other people? (Luke 12:4–5). Am I looking at anyone with envy? Am I giving in to even the first motions of sexual lust or gluttony? Am I spending my time on urgent things rather than important things because of these inordinate desires? Consider how the free grace of Jesus provides me with what I am looking for in these other things.

                          And I must bear   What is ordained with patience, being aware   Necessity doth front the universe   With an invincible gesture. Prometheus Bound. E.B. BROWNING.

There are only two ways to acceptance - Patience & courage. The only third way to it is to use both

the fruit of the Spirit k is love, l joy, m peace, patience, n kindness, o goodness, faith, B 23 gentleness, p self-control. 

Power of Prayer     “The LORD has heard my cry for mercy; the LORD accepts my prayer” (Psalm 6:9).     I realize the power of prayer and the importance of praying for others. Yet sometimes I have these pesky doubts sprouting up in the garden of my mind, like weeds. Unless I pull out the root of the problem, they will continue to grow and return.   Recently, I prayed for my daughter’s healing. I also used common sense, having her sleep and take it easy all day. But then this morning her cough continued. It got progressively worse on our walk to the bus stop. Later in the day, she even had to break from an aggressive game of hide-n-seek to give her lungs a rest.   I found myself wondering; I know God is a miracle-working God, so why is she not healed? I know that God heals the sick, so why is she still coughing? I know that God says, ask and you shall receive (Luke 11) so why has my prayer not been heard? I want a miracle now. I know it’s within God’s power. Her lungs could become instantly made perfect in a simple command.   So knowing He can do this, why doesn’t He?   I reason that either: a) God didn’t hear my prayer, b) He heard my prayer and ignored it, c) He heard my prayer and answered, Yes later, or d) He heard my prayer and answered, No.   a)   He didn’t hear my prayer   I know God hears my prayers, based on scripture and my own experiences. There are lots of passages in the Bible to back up the fact that God does hear us. “This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us” (1 John 5:14).   My own experiences even include God hearing my inner, unspoken prayers. I have prayed for safety, while driving in dangerous storms, and He answered my prayer. I have prayed for help and He answered immediately. Actually, I could fill this page and the next with prayers answered, both verbally expressed and those silently directed to God, as proof that He does hear my prayers.   b)   He heard my prayer and ignored it   Given that God hears my prayer, He can either respond, Yes or No. Considering that nothing is impossible for God (Luke 18 ) and He is a just and loving God, there is no reason for Him to ignore me. He calls to me everyday. Since He wants to communicate with me, it would be against His very nature to ignore me. He is merciful and kind, forgiving and gentle. If anything, He wants a relationship with me and so He would not ignore me. “For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous and his ears are attentive to their prayer” (1 Peter 3:12).   c) He heard my prayer and answered, Yes later   I know that God hears my prayers. I know by His very nature He would not ignore my prayers. (2 Chronicles 7 NIV) So He may be saying, Yes later. God knows the past, the present and the future. He lives in eternity. He knows what is best for me and when. His timing is perfect and I must learn to accept this. I must lift my prayer to Him and then settle back knowing that He is in full control.   It’s just a matter of patience. “We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised” (Hebrews 6:12). Like the time I had to wait for my house to sell. I

The definition of patience I use for myself is: Patience does nothing. Patience is the front end of these three fruits which relate to people - patience, goodness an kindness - and it is the passive part of love: It is love doing nothing... Doing nothing gives you and me time (even a second!) to do something - to pray, to reflect, and to plan to respond in a righteous manner. ~Elizabeth George in her book A Woman's Walk with God.

An indispensable ingredient for spiritual maturation is the cultivation of fortitude: strength, forbearance, and patience.

Many of the people God used in Scripture looked like losers before they looked like winners. After the disciples fished all night and caught nothing, Jesus told them, ‘…Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men’ (Luke 5:10 NKJV). They did, and they ended up: a) building a church that’s still thriving two thousand years later; b) writing history’s greatest books; c) having our sons named after them. Does that mean you can just dream a dream and God will fulfil it? No. Paul says, ‘…You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honour God…’ (1 Corinthians 6:19-20 NIV).

As far as we are concerned we do not wish to stand in anyone’s way, nor do we wish to bring discredit on the ministry God has given us. Indeed we want to prove ourselves genuine ministers of God whatever we have to go through—patient endurance of troubles or even disasters, being flogged or imprisoned; being mobbed, having to work like slaves, having to go without food or sleep. All this we want to meet with sincerity, with insight and patience; by sheer kindness and the Holy Spirit; with genuine love, speaking the plain truth, and living by the power of God. Our sole defence, our only weapon, is a life of integrity, whether we meet honour or dishonour, praise or blame. Called “impostors” we must be true, called “nobodies” we must be in the public eye. Never far from death, yet here we are alive, always “going through it” yet never “going under”. We know sorrow, yet our joy is inextinguishable. We have “nothing to bless ourselves with” yet we bless many others with true riches. We are penniless, and yet in reality we have everything worth having.

Discipline is patience,” she pants between breaths. “The longer you control yourself...the greater your reward...over time. And when the horizon...is eternity, the rewards are infinite...if you master self-discipline.

We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience . . . —Colossians 1:9b–11

O that every season might be Bealtaine that we might see Your Light plainly. But no. For in each time and season we learn patience, prudence, temperance, and wisdom. If all seasons were the same, we would miss You in Your fullness.

Humanity A to Z (The Poem) A for assimilation is the way, B for bigotry must be thrown away. C for conscience when at play, D for delusions all run away. E for equality once brought to life, F for fears can no longer survive. G for greed when let not to thrive, H for humility won't be caught in strife. I for integrity mustn't be compromised, J for justice will then prevail alright. K for kindness must never run tight, L for life can then be lived upright. M for mercy can never be forgotten, N for naivety keeps you from being rotten. O for oppression when is begotten, P for patience must be overridden. Q for questions when let fly, R for rigidity will weaken and die. S for serenity will go awry, T for tradition if obeyed dry. U for unity is our supreme mission, V for vanity leads only to destruction. W for wholeness is our salvation, X for xenophobia is no civilization. Y for yield we must never to separation, Z for zeal we mustn't lose for ascension.

I just have no patience with people who ignore the Do Not Call list, so I also have no qualms about hanging up on them.

while being open to their theology, I was silently praying to “my” God, that I would have the wisdom and the patience and the openness to serve them as they needed to be served. So, I had my own theology going in my heart, while I was also using professional chaplaincy skills such as reflective listening to allow them to affirm their theology with honesty and integrity.

Do I have the strength? Do I have the patience? Do I have what it takes? Your only true obstacle is the fear you harbor within you. Face it. Fight it. Defeat it. Then live your life to its fullest.

Several years since, I purchased a living white whale, captured near Labrador, and succeeded in placing it, “in good condition,” in a large tank, fifty feet long, and supplied with salt water, in the basement of the American Museum. I was obliged to light the basement with gas, and that frightened the sea-monster to such an extent that he kept at the bottom of the tank, except when he was compelled to stick his nose above the surface in order to breathe or “blow,” and then down he would go again as quick as possible. Visitors would sometimes stand for half an hour, watching in vain to get a look at the whale; for, although he could remain under water only about two minutes at a time, he would happen to appear in some unlooked for quarter of the huge tank, and before they could all get a chance to see him, he would be out of sight again. Some impatient and incredulous persons after waiting ten minutes, which seemed to them an hour, would sometimes exclaim: “Oh, humbug! I don’t believe there is a whale here at all!” This incredulity often put me out of patience, and I would say: “Ladies and gentlemen, there is a living whale in the tank. He is frightened by the gaslight and by visitors; but he is obliged to come to the surface every two minutes, and if you will watch sharply, you will see him. I am sorry we can’t make him dance a hornpipe and do all sorts of wonderful things at the word of command; but if you will exercise your patience a few minutes longer, I assure you the whale will be seen at considerably less trouble than it would be to go to Labrador expressly for that purpose.” This would usually put my patrons in good humor; but I was myself often vexed at the persistent stubbornness of the whale in not calmly floating on the surface for the gratification of my visitors. One day, a sharp Yankee lady and her daughter, from Connecticut, called at the Museum. I knew them well; and in answer to their inquiry for the locality of the whale, I directed them to the basement. Half an hour afterward, they called at my office, and the acute mother, in a half-confidential, serio-comic whisper, said: “Mr. B., it’s astonishing to what a number of purposes the ingenuity of us Yankees has applied india-rubber.

Patience is our safeguard against doubt and despair and is the key to our serenity.

No chance hath brought this ill to me; ’Tis God’s own hand, so let it be, He seeth what I cannot see. There is a need-be for each pain, And He one day will make it plain That earthly loss is heavenly gain. Like as a piece of tapestry Viewed from the back appears to be Naught but threads tangled hopelessly; But in the front a picture fair Rewards the worker for his care, Proving his skill and patience rare. Thou art the Workman, I the frame. Lord, for the glory of Thy Name, Perfect Thine image on the same.

The tension of constructing an explanation, from A to B to C to D, apparently so simple a task, irritates many people with ADD. While they can hold the information in mind, they do not have the patience to sequentially put it out. That is too tedious. They would like to dump the information in a heap on the floor all at once and have it be comprehended instantly. Otherwise, as Douglas says, it’s just not worth the effort. It’s too boring.

And a man should look after a woman and children—although that is not all he should do. But a woman should not look after a man, because she must look after children, and a man should not be a child. This means that he must not be dependent. This is one of the reasons that men have little patience for dependent men. And let us not forget: wicked women may produce dependent sons, may support and even marry dependent men,

patience is a virtue, good things come to those who wait, and, despite the frustrations and resentments, you must take the laughs where you can.

Those moments that put you one hold and require you to have patience, can lead to a deeper awareness of your life.

It was started in 1909 by the Negro writer and civil rights activist, W.E.B. Dubois, two white suffragettes and a white lawyer from Boston.  Injustice to black Americans is everyone’s problem, Patience, not just the Negro’s.  It’s important for both races to be involved.

I once asked Master B.P. Chan if the ancient qigong and martial arts masters had superior abilities to those of the present. He said, "In general, yes. But only because they were more patient." ... Most students abandon the practice and look for a new form of "entertainment". But it is precisely at this stage that the most lasting benefits are cultivated.

In Proclus’ reading, virtues, even traits apparently divine (δοκοῦντα δαιμόνια), and not merely flaws, generate animal bodies in the presence of passion and without philosophy (316.6-25). Agamemnon, an embodiment of kingly virtue, admirable for his patience and perseverance (Crat. 395a), and whom Socrates looks forward to meeting in the afterlife (Apol. 41b), chooses a life as an eagle (Rep. 620b); Orpheus, a transmitter of divine inspiration (Ion 536b), chooses a life as a swan, even as a swan chooses the life of a human (Rep. 620a).

N.B. Vous pouvez constater que je me suis abstenu ici, de même que dans ma précédente lettre, de faire un procès de mes difficultés personnelles avec vous, mais puisque dans votre lettre vous dites que je n'ai "jamais pu comprendre votre nature", il me sera suffisant de vous répondre que c'est à vous qu'il incombait plutôt de connaître la mienne, et d'en tenir compte si cela était dans vos possibilités. D'autre part, quand vous dites que je n'ai "jamais voulu faire l'expérience sérieuse de certaines règles traditionnelles, ce qui seul eût pu me donner des lumières concernant votre rôle", je dois conclure que cette opinion est pour moi la meilleure preuve que vous ne vous êtes pas rendu compte de ce qu'a été mon cas véritable et combien ma situation a été inutilement pénible. Je n'insisterai pas d'avantage sur cette question qui est de toute façon sans intérêt maintenant. Quant à cette autre phrase, conçue selon la même manière "absolue" (on y trouve un troisième "jamais"): "Vous n'avez jamais compris le récit qorânique de la rencontre de Moïse avec el-Khidr", je vous dirai seulement ceci: ce qui avait manqué à Moïse ce fut la "patience", alors que moi, dans des circonstances incomparablement plus modestes, j'en ai tout de même eu assez pour que des gens bien placés et d'autorité estiment même que j'ai payé tout le tribut de la "soumission". De plus Moïse était obligé de croire dans la vérité d'el-Khidr, car c'est Allâh même qui l'y avait engagé et que, de ce fait, la question du manque de confiance ne devait pas se poser pour lui. (Lettre de M.Vâlsan à F.Schuon, novembre 1950)

It would take one who is quite weak in faith to think he should only eat vegetables. Yet Paul says to bear with him, even though our tendency may be to look down on that individual, or perhaps even try to correct them, and often so in a condescending manner. But, Paul does add that we should not embrace the thinking for ourselves (v. 1b). Bearing with him carries the idea that we extend as much patience as is needed towards our weaker brothers and sisters, while still staying strong in faith ourselves.

sign it, okay?” Mother smiled. “Patience,

The tension of constructing an explanation, from A to B to C to D, apparently so simple a task, irritates many people with ADD. While they can hold the information in mind, they do not have the patience to sequentially put it out. That is too tedious. They would like to dump the information in a heap on the floor all at once and have it be comprehended instantly.

He replies, in a tone betraying that his patience has nearly expired, that they're in Tel Aviv and in the northwest Negev. Then I ask him if, as a Palestinian, I can enter these museums and archives? And he responds, before putting down the receiver, that he doesn't see what would prevent me. And I don't see what would prevent me either, except for my identity card. The site of the incident, and the museums and archives documenting it, are located outside Area C, according to the military's division of the country, and not only that, but they're quite far away, close to the border with Egypt, while the longest trip I can embark on with my green identity card, which shows I'm from Area A, is from my house to my new job. Legally, though, anyone from Area A can go to Area B, if there aren't exceptional political or military circumstances that prevent one from doing so. But nowadays, such exceptional circumstances are in fact the norm, and many people from Area A don't even consider going to Area B. In recent years, I haven't even gone as far as Oalandiya checkpoint, which separates Area A and Area B, so how can I even think of going to a place so far that it's almost in Area D?

If the character of God in the story of Abraham is crazy, the God in the story of the book of Job is an asshole. The moral of this story isn’t about the patience of Job; au contraire, the message of this narrative is that God is a dick, and he has a gambling problem.

Patience, naughty girl,” he whispers in my ear, dropping his hands to my hips. “Turn around for me.

All I know was that Dirva stayed with Liro in the days immediately after, and that it was Liro who slowly coaxed him back from the jaws of grief. Dirva had Liro, he had no one else, and it was then that I began to understand that the things we need from others make their own kind of sense, have their own logic, create their own legitimacy regardless of what we've been taught. If he hadn't had Liro, I am not sure Dirva would have been able to patch himself back together. I am grateful for this, but in the years since, I cannot help but wonder at the sacrifice it required of Liro. It is not easy to hold someone through their grief. It is hard to see someone you love in pain, in irreparable pain. It takes an extraordinary type of kindness, a rare patience, to let the loss run its course. We always want to help, but there are times when there is no help, and the pressure to take help only makes things harder on the ones trapped in mourning. I don't know what transpired between them. I don't. But I do know that Dirva left him without explanation, reappeared without warning, and that there was nothing for Liro to do but offer himself up. I never knew Liro well, but he seemed to me a very bright man. Like anyone who scraped a childhood by on the street and survived to adulthood, he had a watchfulness about him and an uncannily honed feel for other people. Liro knew the moment Dirva set foot in the City what he would need, and what he would take, and Liro let him take it anyway.

12 See how dear he held him. (John 11:36 WEYMOUTH) He loved, yet lingered. We are so quick to think that delayed answer to prayer means that the prayer is not going to be answered. Dr. Stuart Holden has said truly: “Many a time we pray and are prone to interpret God’s silence as a denial of our petitions; whereas, in truth, He only defers their fulfillment until such time as we ourselves are ready to cooperate to the full in His purposes.” Prayer registered in heaven is prayer dealt with, although the vision still tarries. Faith is trained to its supreme mission under the discipline of patience. The man who can wait God’s time, knowing that He edits his prayer in wisdom and affection, will always discover that He never comes to man’s aid one minute too soon or too late. God’s delay in answering the prayer of our longing heart is the most loving thing God can do. He may be waiting for us to come closer to Him, prostrate ourselves at His feet and abide there in trustful submission, that His granting of the longed-for answer may mean infinitely greater blessing than if we received it anywhere else than in the dust at His feet. O wait, impatient heart! As winter waits, her songbirds fed. And every nestling blossom dead; Beyond the purple seas they sing! Beneath soft snows they sleep! They only sleep. Sweet patience keep And wait, as winter waits the spring. Nothing can hold our ship down when the tide comes in! The aloe blooms but once in a hundred years; but every hour of all that century is needed to produce the delicate texture and resplendent beauty of the flower. Faith heard the sound of “the tread of rain,” and yet God made Elijah wait! God never hastens, and He never tarries!

I, then, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,a 2with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love,b 3striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace:c 4* one body and one Spirit, as you were also called to the one hope of your call;d 5one Lord, one faith, one baptism;e 6one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and prayed for patience. Sometimes I felt like Di was a pain in the ass on purpose.

We must not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another” (Gal 5:26). “With patience, accepting one another in love” (Eph 4:2). “Be kind and compassionate to one another” (Eph 4:32a). “Forgiving one another” (Eph 4:32b). “Speaking to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs” (Eph 5:19). “Submitting to one another in the fear of Christ” (Eph 5:21). “In humility consider others as more important than yourselves” (Phil 2:3). “Do not lie to one another” (Col 3:9). “Accepting one another” (Col 3:13). “Forgiving one another if anyone has a complaint against another” (Col 3:13).

I love my father because I know that he wanted to be a top forty, touching pop song, but he just missed the mark and became a sad tune on the B-side. I always had the patience to listen to the B-sides, because my cassette recorder didn't rewind. I listened, I loved, because I had no choice. And now he's fading, off, and I can sense the pop tune coming on again. An I am so not in the mood for it at all. I want that sad song go on forever. I want my daddy to stay. I want to listen to these songs over and over and let them and him try my patience. I want to take my father and put him on continuous play.

It is not easy to hold someone through their grief. It is hard to see someone you love in pain, in irreparable pain. It takes an extraordinary type of kindness, a rare patience, to let the loss run its course. We always want to help, but there are times when there is no help, and the pressure to take help only makes things harder on the ones trapped in mourning.

A change of heart takes sometime, Urgent haste will not make things better, For it takes patience and time for a series of actions The length of life is the same amount of your chances Trust is never enough when it does not contain confidence Faith is what you need, a prerequisite for hope and love Heart doesn't really breaks, it is only a feeling Painful but that is how the process of giving you a heart of a better shape! Don't be trick by wrong saying or false advice, Just pray and ask wise counsel to our LORD. A gold ring will never looks beautiful if it wasn't burn, melted, struck and fashioned first.

Patience is a word we use a lot to describe great teachers at work. But what I saw was not patience, exactly. It was more like probing, strategic impatience. The master coaches I met were constantly changing their input. If A didn't work, they tried B and C; if they failed, the rest of the alphabet was holstered and ready. What seemed like patient repetition from the outside was actually, on closer examination, a series of subtle variations, each one a distinct firing, each one creating a worthwhile combination of errors and fixes that grew myelin.

When Jeremiah had first arrived at the village in the company of Ezekiel, he hated all Indians. Potowatomie Indians had slaughtered his mother, Shoshone dog soldiers had mutilated his father, and the thought of any Indians being anything but monsters was a thought he didn't entertain. But the patience and discipline of Buffalo Thunder had slowly opened his mind to the realization that people were what they were not by the color of their skin, the clothes they wore, the place where they lived, but by the character within their spirit and the life that revealed what their heart held deep within. There were good and bad among any group of people, no matter the color, language or land.

Orcen vocabulary was not particularly large or sophisticated. They did not have a word for patience, for example. Their closest equivalent was the word “B’arrr’Kek” which meant, literally, ‘to delay violence due to inconvenient circumstances.