Jimmy Cross Quotes

So I hear we get to go to town this weekend. Want to catch a movie or something? --Z P.S. That is, if Jimmy doesn't mind. Translation: This weekend might be a good chance for us to see each other outside our school in a social environment, free of competetiton. I do not view other boys as threats, and I enjoy making them seem insignificant by calling them the wrong names. (Translation by Macey McHenry)

When a man died, there had to be blame. Jimmy Cross understood this. You could blame the war, You could blame the idiots who made the war. You could blame Kiowa for going to it. You could blame the rain. You could blame the river. You could blame the field, the mud, the climate. You could blame the enemy. You could blame the mortar rounds. You could blame people who were too lazy to read a newspaper, who were bored by the daily body counts, who switched channels at the mention of politics. You could blame whole nations. You could blame God. You could blame the munitions makers or Karl Marx or a trick of fate of an old man in Omaha who forgot to vote.

First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rusack. In the late afternoon, after a day's march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of light pretending.

IF ANYONE DESERVES TO CARRY A GRUDGE, IT’S CHRIST. BUT INSTEAD, HE CARRIED A CROSS.

Bir şeyi taşımak, sırtlamak demekti; Üsteğmen Jimmy Cross'un Martha'ya olan aşkını tepeler ve bataklıklar boyunca sırtlaması gibi. Geçişsiz kullanıldığında yürümek anlamına gelirdi, fakat bunun ötesinde yükler ima ederdi.

On the TV screen right now, it's 1975, and Jimmy Page is playing like a man who answers to nobody. A man existing in that seductive state of extended adolescence that rock legends bask in, a man connected to something in the universe larger than even the sum total of the legendary Led Zeppelin, playing guitar because that is so clearly what he was put here to do. And it's wrong to expect that kind of divine moment to last forever, and to expect an artist to stay in 1975. Fact is, ten minutes ago I saw the guy onscreen right downstairs, coming off the trading floor of the stock exchange with a banker carrying his guitar cases for him. I sit cross-legged on the floor on a workday staring into my cereal bowl, thinking about how we all change. We all grow up. We all move on, one way or another, whether we want to or not.

If she had only known, things might have been different between us, but I could never talk to her about it" [Jimmy about Molly]

Jimmie would forever be the Renaissance humanist, bearing his faith and optimism like a white light inside a chalice.

On the morning after Ted Lavender died, First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross crouched at the bottom of his foxhole and burned Martha's letters. Then he burned the two photographs.

Did that just happen?” I whispered. “Yep,” Hawk replied, grabbed my hand and tugged me to the door. “My dad just saw us making out with your hand on my ass,” I added detail, just to confirm. Hawk opened the door and pulled me through, repeating, “Yep.” “Well, at least I got my Jimmy Choos before I died. Now you can take me to the nearest railway crossing and I’ll throw myself in front of a train.

Carlos Marcello and the war orphans did cross my mind during the drive, and I sat the whole way facing the driver. He was a little guy, and if he took his hand off the steering wheel I was going to take his head off for him.

Daddy and I left the End this morning. He is meeting with some of the leaders in Capitol City and he said I could come with him. But, the meetings were boring, so I thought I’d come see you guys.” “You mean, make fun of me, don’t you?” Jimmy said bitterly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and pouting. Princes Tina giggled. “It’s just so easy to do that.

Do you like Mother and Father?" "they're both all right" "they're not Jimmy, and you shouldn't say so. I hate them, and you should hate them." "all right" I said, "I hate them.

I jerked the blankets right back off her, and there she was with her nightdress up around her neck. It was a shock to me that, her starting to look like a woman." [Jimmy about Molly]

He enjoyed not being dead. Lying there, Kiowa admired Lieutenant Jimmy Cross's capacity for grief. He wanted to share the man's pain, he wanted to care as Jimmy Cross cared. And yet when he closed his eyes, all he could think was Boom-down, and all he could feel was the pleasure of having his boots off and the fog curling in around him and the damp soil and the Bible smells and the plush comfort of night.

Message of the Cross, which in effect is the story of the Bible, then spiritual captivity is the result. Freedom over the world, the flesh, and the Devil can be brought about only by Christ and what Christ did at the Cross, which gives the Holy Spirit latitude to work in one’s life. All

Among the men there would be grumbling, of course, and maybe worse, because their days would seem longer and their loads heavier, but Lieutenant Jimmy Cross reminded himself that his obligation was not to be loved but to lead. He would dispense with love; it was not now a factor. And if anyone quarreled or complained, he would simply tighten his lips and arrange his shoulders in the correct command posture. He might give a curt little nod. Or he might not. He might just shrug and say, Carry on, then they would saddle up and form into a column and move out toward the villages west of Than Khe.

One of the most surprisingly controversial presidential decisions I made was to return the Crown of Saint Stephen to the people of Hungary. It was said to have been given by the Pope in the year 1000 to Stephen, the first king of Hungary, as a symbol of political and religious authority and was worn by more than fifty kings when they were vested with power. A distinctive feature was that the cross on top was bent. As Soviet troops invaded Hungary, toward the end of the Second World War, some Hungarians delivered to American troops the crown and other royal regalia, which were subsequently stored in Fort Knox alongside our nation’s gold. The Soviets still dominated Hungary when I announced my decision to return the crown. There was a furor among Hungarian-Americans and others, and I was denounced as accepting the subservience of the occupied nation. I considered the crown to be a symbol of the freedom and sovereignty of the Hungarian people. I returned it in January 1978, stipulating that the crown and insignia must be controlled by Hungarians, carefully protected, and made available for public display as soon as practicable. A duplicate of the crown was brought to The Carter Center as a gift for me in March 1998 and is on display in our presidential museum. Rosalynn and I led volunteers to build Habitat houses in Vác, Hungary, in 1996, and we were treated as honored guests of the government and escorted to the Hungarian National Museum to see the crown and the stream of citizens who were going past it, many of them reciting a prayer as they did so. We were told that more than 3 million people pay homage to the crown each year. A few years later it was moved to its permanent home, in the Hungarian Parliament Building.

(Reynolds says, “In these Words, we learn that the attraction of the Cross of Christ will prove to be the mightiest, and most sovereign motive ever brought to bear on the human will, and, when wielded by the Holy Spirit as a Revelation of the matchless Love of God, will involve the most sweeping judicial sentence that can be pronounced upon the world and its prince.”).

He had taken a few days' leave from his army training and they had taken refuge in the Charing Cross Hotel while an unexploded bomb in the Strand was being dealt with. They could hear the naval guns that had been stationed on trolleys between Vauxhall and Waterloo--boom-boom-boom--but the bombers were looking for other targets and seemed to have moved on. 'Doesn't it ever stop?' Jimmy asked. 'Apparently not.' 'It's safer in the army,' he laughed.

As he emerged again and crossed through the dining-room he saw that Murray had regained consciousness and was sitting at a table wiping the blood from his face with a wet napkin. As Murray’s eyes fell upon his late antagonist he half rose from his chair and shook his fist at Jimmy. “I’ll get you for this, young feller!” he yelled. “I’ll get you yet, and don’t you forget it.” “You just had me,” Jimmy called back; “but it didn’t seem to make you very happy.

Similarly, one of my missionary friends in Italy sent me detailed notes from a sermon by a hyper-grace preacher there who proclaimed that there are some prayers that do not have to be prayed in the light of the finished work of the cross, including: • “Lord, forgive me for I am sorry.” • “Lord, bless Jimmy today.” • “Lord, save Auntie Jean.” • “Lord, heal Uncle Bob.” Yes, these hyper-grace teachers believe that God has already saved, forgiven, and healed the whole world, since Jesus already paid for our complete redemption. The only thing lacking is our faith, and once we believe, then we are saved, forgiven, and healed. As for Jesus, He hasn’t done any saving or healing or prospering of anyone in two thousand years. He finished the work on the cross. This, of course, is absolutely untrue, but it’s just another indication of how far off the deep end we can go when we misunderstand grace and misrepresent the finished work of the cross. (For those needing proof that this teaching is untrue, here are a few verses that speak of God saving or healing or forgiving after the cross: Acts 9:34; Titus 3:5–7; Hebrews 7:25; Jacob [James] 5:15; 1 John 5:16.)

As Noam Chomsky so well explains in his book, What Uncle Sam Really Wants: When his rule was challenged by the Sandinistas [the insurgent group named after Augusto Cesar Sandino] in the late 1970s, the US first tried to institute what was called “Somocismo [Somoza-ism] without Somoza”- that is, the whole corrupt system intact, but with somebody else at the top. That didn’t work, so President Carter tried to maintain Somoza’s National Guard as a base for US power. The National Guard had always been remarkably brutal and sadistic. By June 1979, it was carrying out massive atrocities in the war against the Sandinistas, bombing residential neighborhoods in Managua, killing tens of thousands of people. At that point, the US ambassador sent a cable to the White House saying it would be “ill advised” to tell the Guard to call off the bombing, because that might interfere with the policy of keeping them in power and the Sandinistas out. Our ambassador to the Organization of American States also spoke in favor of “Somocismo without Somoza,” but the OAS rejected the suggestion flat out. A few days later, Somoza flew off to Miami with what was left of the Nicaraguan national treasury, and the Guard collapsed. The Carter administration flew Guard commanders out of the country in planes with Red Cross markings (a war crime), and began to reconstitute the Guard on Nicaragua’s borders. They also used Argentina as a proxy. (At that time, Argentina was under the rule of neo-Nazi generals, but they took a little time off from torturing and murdering their own population to help reestablish the Guard -- soon to be renamed the contras, or “freedom fighters.”)3 Again, we see Jimmy Carter not really living up to all of his lofty human rights rhetoric.

We are not to practice Bible reading, fasting, solitude, prayer, and other disciplines to make God happy with us but to make space to hear how happy God is with us because of Jesus.

God uses suffering to loosen our grip on the lies we’ve embraced, and to implant in us his words of truth, revealing to us the depth of that truth at levels we could never glimpse in the absence of suffering.

We were created to look away from ourselves toward God, other people, and all of creation and say, “You first.

We believe in the virgin birth of Jesus, in the deity of Christ, and salvation by grace alone through the blood of Jesus shed on the cross. We believe in the physical death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, for the atonement of sins. We believe in the inerrancy of Scripture, and in one God, manifested through the Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

When the Ku Klux Klan burns a cross in a black family's yard, prominent Christians aren't required to explain how it isn't really a Christian act. Most people realize that the KKK doesn't represent Christian teachings. That's what I and other Muslims long for--the day when these terrorists praising Muhammad or Allah's name as they debase their actual teachings are instantly recognized as thugs disguising themselves as Muslims. It's like bank robbers who wear masks of Presidents; we don't really think Jimmy Carter and George W. Bush hit the Bank of America during their downtime.

When everything-EVERYTHING about life makes you want to grin, and it just gets sunnier and funnier until after a while you can only see the teeth in the smiles and then you feel... —well, not "on the edge" exactly, for the world has no edge; but as if you have always been over the edge, and the smiling and laughing is a sort of spastic reflex like crying or retching (really, it's all the same);— when you drink red wine in a cup and try to categorize the geometry of the gleam-patterns you see on the liquid's surface-and you may find, my friends, that you can almost do it: you agree with yourself upon the existence of a light-shape like the outline of a hemisphere drawn in concave at the equator; but another sip and it changes to a gleam-ring all around the rim of the wine circle; and another and it is reddish-black everywhere with the unsteady image of your face in it, your skin redder and your mouth blacker than the wine, and another and you see white specks swimming in the cup: they are not reflections at all, but bits of grease or rice or cereal, or maybe cheek-cells that got washed out of your mouth (the age-old question: is the imper-fection, the filth, in you or in the glass?); —but then your attention is diverted forever by the ugly purple stain around the edge of the cup where your lips have been; when everything is so confusing that you can never be sure whether or not your whore is a woman until she pulls her underpants down; when nothing is clear, and whore-chasing is a merry-go-round of death (if you don't catch a disease that will kill you, why, you will go around again, not because you want to die but because until you do everything remains unclear); when you get drunken crushes on women whose drunken mothers used to try to stab them; when the names of streets are like Nabokov's wearisome clever-ness; when only the pretty shapes of women have integrity and when you close your eyes still see them leaning and crossing their legs and milking their tits at you, THEN you may on occasion like Jimmy find yourself looking down a long black block, down the tunnels of infinity to a streedamp, a corner and a woman's waiting silhouette. —Or else like Jimmy you may have another drink

By the end of the year 2000, Israeli settlers in the West Bank and Gaza numbered 225,000. The best offer to the Palestinians—by Clinton, not Barak—had been to withdraw 20 percent of the settlers, leaving more than 180,000 in 209 settlements, covering about 10 percent of the occupied land, including land to be “leased” and portions of the Jordan River valley and East Jerusalem. The percentage figure is misleading, since it usually includes only the actual footprints of the settlements. There is a zone with a radius of about four hundred meters around each settlement within which Palestinians cannot enter. In addition, there are other large areas that would have been taken or earmarked to be used exclusively by Israel, roadways that connect the settlements to one another and to Jerusalem, and “life arteries” that provide the settlers with water, sewage, electricity, and communications. These range in width from five hundred to four thousand meters, and Palestinians cannot use or cross many of these connecting links. This honeycomb of settlements and their interconnecting conduits effectively divide the West Bank into at least two noncontiguous areas and multiple fragments, often uninhabitable or even unreachable, and control of the Jordan River valley denies Palestinians any direct access eastward into Jordan. About one hundred military checkpoints completely surround Palestine and block routes going into or between Palestinian communities, combined with an uncountable number of other roads that are permanently closed with large concrete cubes or mounds of earth and rocks. There was no possibility that any Palestinian leader could accept such terms and survive, but official statements from Washington and Jerusalem were successful in placing the entire onus for the failure on Yasir Arafat. Violence in the Holy Land continued.

Driving along Broadway, he sees a young guy exit a bus and then turn to help an old woman who was waiting to board that bus. In his entire life, Bobby’s never seen more people help little old ladies cross streets, avoid puddles or potholes, carry their groceries, or find their car keys in purses overstuffed with rosary beads and damp tissues. Everyone knows everyone here; they stop one another in the streets to ask after spouses, children, cousins twice removed. Come winter, they shovel walks together, join up to push cars out of snowbanks, freely pass around bags of salt or sand for icy sidewalks. Summertime, they congregate on porches and stoops or cluster in lawn chairs along the sidewalks to shoot the shit, trade the daily newspapers, and listen to Ned Martin calling the Sox games on ’HDH. They drink beer like it’s tap water, smoke ciggies as if the pack will self-destruct at midnight, and call to one another—across streets, to and from cars, and up at distant windows—like impatience is a virtue. They love the church but aren’t real fond of mass. They only like the sermons that scare them; they mistrust any that appeal to their empathy. They all have nicknames. No James can just be a James; has to be Jim or Jimmy or Jimbo or JJ or, in one case, Tantrum. There are so many Sullivans that calling someone Sully isn’t enough. In Bobby’s various incursions here over the years, he’s met a Sully One, a Sully Two, an Old Sully, a Young Sully, Sully White, Sully Tan, Two-Time Sully, Sully the Nose, and Little Sully (who’s fucking huge). He’s met guys named Zipperhead, Pool Cue, Pot Roast, and Ball Sac (son of Sully Tan). He’s come across Juggs, Nicklebag, Drano, Pink Eye (who’s blind), Legsy (who limps), and Handsy (who’s got none). Every guy has a thousand-yard stare. Every woman has an attitude. Every face is whiter than the whitest paint you’ve ever seen and then, just under the surface, misted with an everlasting Irish pink that sometimes turns to acne and sometimes doesn’t. They’re the friendliest people he’s ever met. Until they aren’t. At which point they’ll run over their own grandmothers to ram your fucking skull through a brick wall. He has no idea where it all comes from—the loyalty and the rage, the brotherhood and the suspicion, the benevolence and the hate. But he suspects it has something to do with the need for a life to have meaning.

Thus, when the SBC dropped its anti-integration rhetoric for the most part in the 1970s, it had to find another outlet to protect the status quo, as well as its own power. "For religious conservatives," argues Paul Harvey, "patriarchy has supplanted race as the defining first principle of God ordained order." The SBC's relationship to women and to feminism in general became, in additional to biblical inerrancy, a linchpin for fundamentalists. And that is critically important in terms of the Long Southern Strategy. Racism and racially coded rhetoric may have driven many white southerners to the GOP, but they did not stay there. In order to win them back after the administration of one of their own, Jimmy Carter, the GOP trumpeted the ‘family values’ mantra to woo social conservative voters. In order to cross from racial politics to religious politics, they built a bridge on the backs of feminists. In fact, of all of the cultural issues arising during the 1970s and 1980s, the partisan gap was widest and grew only wider on the ERA specifically and on evaluations of the Women’s Movement in general. Among mainline Protestants nationwide, women’s rights was the first social/cultural issue significantly correlated with partisanship.

Still I’d like to be the first sailor to cross the Atlantic on a boat made entirely of fudge. I mean, imagine that? I’d be a fudge-loving bloody hero...

By highlighting what she learned from Jimmy on these cross-country trips, Grace was affirming the political wisdom that he derived from his background and experiences that differed from hers—namely, his rural upbringing, experiences riding freight trains, and many years as an autoworker. She was also asserting the significance of their divergent backgrounds for their relationship. 63 Decades later, after they had made many more such trips over many years, she reinforced this point with a telling description of their trips: “Traveling along the highway, I would have my head in a book, while he was pointing out the cows and sheep, counting the freight cars and trying to figure out what they were carrying based on his knowledge of industry and agriculture in the region.” And this, she said, reflected not just their divergent personal styles but also their differing political styles: “My approach to political questions came more from books, his from experience.” 64 This duality of books and experience may have been exaggerated—theoretical concepts informed Jimmy’s political practice more than the statement would suggest—but it captures the complementary and cumulative nature of their collaboration. Combining their respective approaches to the politics that they engaged together, Grace and Jimmy could learn from each other, influence each other’s thinking, and grow together. This mutual growth came to be a crucial dynamic of their intellectual and political partnership, and this is what Grace was coming to see, and reporting to C. L. R. in their 1957 correspondence, as she weighed the decision to join him in London for several months.

marriage.” “Aye.” “I thought you were dead.” He stared ahead, silent, not turning toward her. His long, thick hair curled, hiding his face from her. “It’s for the best.” She wanted to tell him it wasn’t even close to the best. It was a tragic mistake, and she feared her growing hate for her husband would poison the child inside her. As if the baby read her thoughts, it just then kicked hard in her belly. But shame more than loyalty kept her silent. She didn’t want him to know how much she despised and feared her husband. “Won’t you even look at me?” she asked. “No.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Am I such a horrible person, Jimmy, that you can’t even look at me?” “Go away, Claire.” All that they’d shared. She’d given him her innocence. She’d protected secrets for him. Even when Robert pressed, even when he hit her, she’d not betrayed Jimmy. Frustration crowded its way past the sadness and guilt. She crossed the room toward him and laid her hand on his shoulder. He flinched and stepped away. “I won’t let you just toss me aside as if I were nothing. We

12 Not as Cain, who was of that wicked one, and slew his Brother (presents the prototype of evil). And wherefore slew he him? (Cain was not a murderer because he killed his Brother, but killed his Brother because he was a murderer.) Because his own works were evil, and his Brother’s Righteous (points directly to the Cross; the rejection of God’s Way [the Cross], which Cain did, is labeled by the Holy Spirit as “evil”; Abel accepted the Cross [Gen., Chpt. 4]).

15 If you love Me, keep My Commandments (His Commandments can be kept only in one way; the Believer must ever make Christ and the Cross the Object of his Faith, which will then give the Holy Spirit latitude to work within our lives and help us do these things which we must do).

21 I do not frustrate the Grace of God (if we make anything other than the Cross of Christ the Object of our Faith, we frustrate the Grace of God, which means we stop its action, and the Holy Spirit will no longer help us): for if Righteousness come by the Law (any type of Law), then Christ is dead in vain. (If I can successfully live for the Lord by any means other than Faith in Christ and the Cross, then the Death of Christ was a waste.)