Lamar Quotes

I remember you was conflicted Misusing your influence Sometimes I did the same Abusing my power, full of resentment Resentment that turned into a deep depression Found myself screaming in the hotel room I didn’t wanna self destruct The evils of Lucy was all around me So I went running for answers Until I came home But that didn’t stop survivor’s guilt Going back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes I earned Or maybe how A-1 my foundation was But while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city, I was entering a new one A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned The word was respect Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's Doesn’t mean I can’t respect you as a black man Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us But I don’t know, I’m no mortal man, maybe I’m just another nigga

Unlike your half-blood prince, this is a classic.” “Half-Blood Prince is a great book.” “Of course it is. What could be better than stories of clueless teenagers sent off to… Bale, what is that?” “What, this?” Lamar’s voice took on a sharp edge. “Is that a wand?” “It’s a stick.” “Are you pointing a wand at me?” “Who, me?” “Bale, if any Latin comes out of your mouth, it better be a litany of the saints, because I will end you.

Am I the only one who measures time using songs? “Oh it only took me 4 songs to get here! that’s not to long!

If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?

We need a new ethic of place, one that has room for salmon and skyscrapers, suburbs and wilderness, Mount Rainier and the Space Needle, one grounded in history.

I would rather my heart be without words than my words be without heart.

It’s not the art, it’s the heart. What [God] reads during our worship is the inner attitude. Worship is spiritual; it’s organic; it’s relational.

When I worship, I would rather my heart be without words than my words be without heart.

It's that find some inspiration, it's that crack the installation, it's that quantum jump and that fist pump and that bomb detonation...

You ever met one of those guys who, in a totally calm and composed way, can scare the shit out of you? Like an MMA fighter, or the fat Kardashian sister who married Lamar Odom?

When Lamar and I huddle up to do a conspiratorial cramming session, I don’t know if we sound like cryptic geniuses, or raving loons that make no sense.

Get God on the phone!

You haven’t prepared yourself for worship if you just practice musical art

Am I radiating openness? Do you feel the warmth of the springtime sun when I'm near? If so, please understand that sensation is actually my fiery disdain.

Bitch don't kill my vibe.

Mencintaimu; serupa mengagumi kunang-kunang; yang mengantongi matahari di belakang ekornya. Hingga, Sepekat apapun sebuah malam, dia akan begitu mudah menemukanmu.

Kau; Sebuah kota yang hanya dapat kukunjungi di malam-malam seperti ini, Rambutmu lampu-lampu, dan wajahmu adalah lukisan yang akan memaksaku untuk selalu kembali.

What are we doing on the plane ride back home? I heard Lamar [Jackson] is leading us in high knees. Ravens flock, let's fly.

You don’t apologize for who you are. I’m an old lady now and perhaps that doesn’t mean much in the world we live in, but I exist and I shouldn’t have to be sorry for that. As a woman, you have to know that. Don’t ever apologize for who you are,

Se si escludono istanti prodigiosi e singoli che il destino ci può donare, l’amare il proprio lavoro (che purtroppo è privilegio di pochi) costituisce la miglior approssimazione concreta alla felicità sulla terra: ma questa è una verità che non molti conoscono.

We’re sorry,” Lamar said quickly. “We’ll go. We don’t have any drugs.” “Says who? Says you?” The guard wore an odd expression, and his words were harsh and fast; he seemed not to be responding to what they were saying. He looked

Lamar, why do they go into a trance when I change into this?” I ask as I go phantom and change into the Egyptian Princess outfit before turning whole again. The guys…don’t go into a trance. Not even Ezekiel, and he missed it the first time. It makes me look like a liar. Weirdly, I take offense to feeling like a liar. It’s weird because I’m the DEVIL’S FUCKING DAUGHTER and THE APOCALYPSE, but being thought of as a liar irks me. My priorities are so messed up.

When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?

Rinduku kuyup, setiap membaca namamu setelah hujan.

Selepas hujan, pelangi pasti ada, karena ini malam, dia berbaris di hatimu.

Semakin senyap sebuah malam, dia justru akan menceritakanmu dengan semakin lantang.

Jika merindukanmu adalah sebuah kesalahan, maka, aku adalah orang yang gemar melakukan kesalahan.

We have to take care of each other, you know? Too much shit going on in this world to not have love in our hearts,” Lamar says.

Orpheus was the Mozart of the ancient world. He was more than that. Orpheus was the Cole Porter, the Shakespeare, the Lennon and McCartney, the Adele, Prince, Luciano Pavarotti, Lady Gaga and Kendrick Lamar of the ancient world, the acknowledged sweet-singing master of words and music.

By connecting Oswald to several parts of the JFK–Almeida coup plan, those working for Marcello, Trafficante, and Rosselli could ensure that when Oswald surfaced as the main suspect, the CIA and other agencies would have to cover up much information to protect the coup plan—which is exactly what happened

All experienced murderers seek cover. By putting the Agency’s fingerprints on [Mafia] operations, the mob could anticipate that the CIA would [be forced to] cooperate in the cover-up of crucial information related to JFK's assassination

You don't have to know someone your whole life to know them. Not really. Lonely is the same everywhere.

I'd told the truth. That shouldn't be wrong, but the truth could be a weapon depending on who used it.

Kendrick stopped writing to make others feel comfortable; instead, he chose to elevate his thinking and make people catch up to him.

You're judged by the companies you keep.

Sarah Aisling: I can’t defend against these charges because I can’t afford a litigator. But I can’t afford a litigator because I’ve been charged. Judge: You should have had insurance against contract suits. Sarah Aisling: I did. Judge: So what’s the problem? Sarah Aisling: They canceled my insurance when I filed the claim. Judge: So sue them! Sarah Aisling: I can’t, I don’t have a litigator. Judge: That’s very cute, Mrs. Aisling.

Solo l'amare, solo il conoscere conta, non l'aver amato, non l'aver conosciuto. Dà angoscia il vivere di un consumato amore. L'anima non cresce più.

Change isn't like a shutter click. It's never instant.

Cardplayers are fools leaving their hopes and dreams to paper kings and queens.

Aku sering mengirimu puisi, bukan bunga. Karena bunga akan layu di depanmu. Malu.

Apa yang aku inginkan dari pria? Apa yang aku harapkan dari suami? Bagaimana dengan cinta? Deri sudah melamarnya! Bukankah itu bukti cinta?

Kau tahu “rindu” itu apa? Menurutku; Semacam rasa pahit dalam kopi, dan kesamaran makna dalam puisi.

Jika perbincangan kita telah usai, maka hadirlah sebuah kekosongan, dialah janji yang dialamatkan pada sepi, janji yang pasti ditepati oleh ampas kopiku, sendiri.

Rinduku; di kota-kota suci, dari rahim bunda, Makkah, & Jerussalem. Terakhir di Cirebon, ; sebuah tempat di mana dengan mudah kumenemukanmu, lalu mencintaimu.

Once the beast's breath fogs your lens, it's too late to run!

You see what you want to see. The truth is that the glass is both half empty and half full. What you can control is how you choose to see it.

Kendrick Lamar's last name is Duckworth. What's a Duckworth? More than a chicken.

But when I saw the price of water I nearly choked. In the last hour it had gone up tenfold. Buying some more information, I learned that there had been an attack, this time at a water treatment facility in Brookhurst. A corporation from a competing Karitzu paid a mercenary firm to blow it up, and raw sewage was now spilling into the aquifer. My God! Did this happen before my shower? What about the toilet? Christ, I may have just blown six hundred caps on a single flush! Hell, for the next few hours I couldn’t even afford to wash my hands.

As several historians have pointed out, it would have made little sense for Fidel to do something that would risk having his country invaded in retaliation, just to make Lyndon Johnson President.

Wolves rarely attack humans, and they do not howl at the moon. (There is no record of a nonrabid wolf killing a human in North America since the arrival of Europeans.)” They are neither innate cowards nor wanton killers.

Mr. Raney named the porpoises - Sister Woman, and Renford, and Lamar, and St. Elmo - and could recognize them, and call each by its name, even at night, six feet long, some of them, with a million sharp teeth and a naughty grin. Often when he floated past in the boat and watched their playful wheeling, in and out among the cypress knees, he called out to them, "Lamar, we are all alone in the world!" or "Renford, cork is an export product of India!

With the edge of my spoon I shave layers off a swirling cake-batter-flavored peak, cause a chocolate-chip avalanche, and imagine the poor people at the melted base of Mount Yogurt screaming in terror at the wrath of their god. She is displeased.

I got this cousin, Lamar,' he said. 'Total fool. And by fool I mean motherfucker wouldn't find water in a swimming pool. But, like all fools, he once spoke a sentence of true wisdom. We'd been talking about this brother, who had a certain . . . fondness for the kind of place you and I find ourselves in right now, and Lamar, in the midst of all his usual ignorant bullshit, said, "You got to be wary of a man who spends all his time watching titties bounce."' Floyd threw his head back and laughed. 'Shit still gets me.

Hey, Jason,” he said. “What do you think the guard would do if he saw us?” “Shoot us?” Jason whimpered, eyeing Lamar warily. “Worse,” Lamar said gravely. “Community service.” Jason wasn’t sure what it meant, but he held his eyes open wide as though it was something terrible.

When a scientist tells you that ‘the science is settled’ in regard to any subject,” Lamar said, “he’s ceased to be a scientist, and he’s become an evangelist for one cult or another. The entire history of science is that nothing in science is ever settled. New discoveries are continuously made, and they upend old certainties.

Fire so hot she can burn hell-spawn and roses from Eden. Her infamous chakrams that now never miss, no matter the lack of skill. And she’s not even at full power yet,” Lamar states in a hushed tone. “She planned on defeating Jahl. She redesigned herself, and somehow tied it all into a death, as though she genuinely planned it step by step.

There’s beauty in completion. And always faith in the unknown.

Life's the picture. But all good photographers know you gotta have the right lens.

Like a person, the corporation only did what was in its own interest, only without the burden of consequences or conscience.

I didn't make you do it. The devil didn't either. It's all you, Panda.

I usually eat cereal every morning.

My mom always says sorry is like pulling a nail from the board: The hole’s still there no matter how much you want it not to be.

The most important person you will ever talk to is yourself

What you do in the darkness comes out in the light.” From the darkness to the light.

Our backgrounds were different, but the traditions of death surpassed culture. Everyone mourned with food.

He didn’t like losing to a girl, the Achilles’ heel of misogynists everywhere.

Economics is always, like religion or politics, something we create together in response to the world we live in.

« Just know the Earth is just a rock without the voices of art. »

Until all the files are released, former officials and CIA personnel will continue to say or imply that Fidel killed JFK, thus perpetuating the fifty-plus-year Cold War with Cuba

My last Christmas toy drive in Compton handed out eulogies Not because the rags in the park had red gradient But because the high blood pressure flooded the caterin' So what's the difference 'tween your life when hidin' motives? More fatalities and reality brung you closure The noble person that goes to work and pray like they 'posed to? Slaughter people too, your murder's just a bit slower

Conditions for statehood would be achieved when the settlers outnumbered the Indigenous population, which in the cases of both the Mexican cession area and the Louisiana Purchase territory required decimation or forced removal of Indigenous populations. In this US system, unique among colonial powers, land became the most important exchange commodity for the accumulation of capital and building of the national treasury. To understand the genocidal policy of the US government, the centrality of land sales in building the economic base of the US wealth and power must be seen. Apologists for US expansionism see the 1787 ordinance not as a reflection of colonialism, but rather as a means of “reconciling the problem of liberty with the problem of empire,” in historian Howard Lamar’s words.

Lamar studied the monitor. Bonnie’s head was up and turned to the side, his eyes appearing to watch the camera. “Well, go find your sister then,” he told Jason. “I don’t need her permission to be bored!” Impatiently, Jason climbed up and out of the control room. “Everyone is so sensitive,” Lamar muttered, suddenly realizing he was alone in the control room. He climbed out, but Jason was already gone.

Vulnerability--not hunger, not anger, and certainly not spite--is the key to predator-prey relationships. The skill and viciousness of the hunter matters less than the size, speed, strength, health, and ferocity of the hunted. Vulnerability explains why large predators tend to kill the old, young, and sick members of prey populations. Predators eat the mild and weak because those are the animals they can catch and kill.

I knew how easy it was to make people believe a lie, but I didn't expect the same people, confronted with the lie, would choose it over the truth. . . . No amount of logic can shatter a faith consciously based on a lie.

What a good government does, what a republic does, is moderate competition; allow the tug of war, but never let one side walk away with the rope. They also establish rule of law, and a safety net below which people cannot fall. Everybody can vote, everybody can share power, no matter how rich or poor. Everybody has rights, and the republic is strong enough to enforce those rights. Police, health, mail, education, the things that everybody needs are guaranteed. Corporations can compete, but they are kept reasonably honest and not allowed to over leverage and risk people other than themselves. People will abuse the system, some corps will get away with crime, but the distribution of a minimum amount of power and resources to all people hedges the damage. And it forces the wealthy, not to be slaves to the poor, but to have a modicum of concern for them, because they can vote.

How is it that people look at the same city and see such very different places? The answer lies in history, or, more accurately, in how people have chosen to remember the past. The habit of regarding culture and nature as binary categories has shaped how we view cities and their dynamic environments. The result is a kind of intellectual myopia in which 'history is experienced as nostalgia and nature as regret--as a horizon fast disappearing behind us.

a tragic roster of activists and innocents had died for the crime of being black or supporting blacks in their state. There was Willie Edwards Jr., the truck driver forced off a bridge to his death by four Klansmen in Montgomery. There was William Lewis Moore, the man from Baltimore shot and killed in Attalla while trying to walk a letter denouncing segregation 385 miles to the governor of Mississippi. There were four young girls, Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley, killed by the bombing of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. There was thirteen-year-old Virgil Lamar Ware, shot to death on the handlebars of his brother’s bicycle in the same city. There was Jimmie Lee Jackson, beaten and shot by state troopers in Marion while he tried to protect his mother and grandfather during a protest. There was the Reverend James Reeb, the Unitarian minister beaten to death in Selma. There was Viola Gregg Liuzzo, shot by Klansmen while trying to ferry marchers between Selma and Montgomery. There was Willie Brewster, shot to death while walking home in Anniston. There was Jonathan Myrick Daniels, a seminarian registering black voters who was arrested for participating in a protest and then shot by a deputy sheriff in Hayneville. There was Samuel Leamon Younge Jr., murdered by a gas station owner after arguing about segregated restrooms.

See, in a perfect world, I'll choose faith over riches. I'll choose work over bitches, I'll make schools out of prison. I'll take all the religions and put 'em all in one service. Just to tell 'em we ain't shit, but He's been perfect, world

He was a nuanced mosaic of varied influences, pulling into one body the lush humility of southern rap stalwarts like OutKast and Goodie Mob, the lyrical dexterity of Nas and Eminem, and the straight-ahead tough talk of Pusha T and Killer Mike.

A 20 year old woman in Houston, Texas, was arrested at Lamar University, after posting a tweet. The message on Twitter was bragging about how she still had a warrant in Pearland, Texas, and how the "pigs" would absolutely never be able to catch her.   Since her full name (Mahogany Mason-Kelly, hardly a common name) and her school information was easily found on her Twitter account, she was quickly arrested. It was then found that she had originally given the police officers her sister's name during the arrest.

It's always been theoretically possible for a man to destroy himself. We always think it won't happen on our watch, that it will be some other generation that destroys the world. That, in the end, is what makes us blind to the possibility, which is the very thing that makes it possible.

In Paris (though he had just come four thousand miles from the river where it was born, though Bessie Smith herself had sung at a Negro dance ten miles from Briartree while they were packing for their trip abroad, and though Duff Conway, the greatest horn man of his time—for whose scratched and worn recordings Jeff was to pay as high as fifty and sixty dollars apiece—had been born and raised in Bristol, son of the cook in the Barcroft house on Lamar Street) Jeff discovered jazz. He fell among the cultists, the essayists on the ‘new’ American rhythms, including the one of whom Eddie Condon, when asked for an opinion, later said, “Would I go over there and tell him how to jump on a grape?

Lamar Alexander, the senator from Tennessee and the most senior Republican on the committee, was asking his last questions when a witness interrupted him to point out that Congress was responsible for setting the right level for the minimum wage. Senator Alexander replied that if he could decide, there would be no minimum. No minimum wage at all. Not $15.00. Not $10.00. Not $7.25. Not $5.00. Not $1.00. The comment was delivered quite casually. It wasn’t a grand pronouncement shouted by a crazy, hair-on-fire ideologue. Instead, a longtime U.S. senator stated with calm confidence that if an employer could find someone desperate enough to take a job for fifty cents an hour, then that employer should have the right to pay that wage and not a penny more. He might as well have said that employers could eat cake and the workers could scramble for whatever crumbs fall off the table. For

When we blame those who brought about the brutal murder of Emmett Till, we have to count President Eisenhower, who did not consider the national honor at stake when white Southerners prevented African Americans from voting; who would not enforce the edicts of the highest court in the land, telling Chief Justice Earl Warren, 'All [opponents of desegregation] are concerned about is to see that their sweet little girls are not required to sit in schools alongside some big, overgrown Negroes.' We must count Attorney General Herbert Brownell Jr., who demurred that the federal government had no jurisdiction in the political assassinations of George Lee and Lamar Smith that summer, thus not only preventing African Americans from voting but also enabling Milam and Bryant to feel confident that they could murder a fourteen-year-old boy with impunity. Brownell, a creature of politics, likewise refused to intervene in the Till case. We must count the politicians who ran for office in Mississippi thumping the podium for segregation and whipping crowds into a frenzy about the terrifying prospects of school desegregation and black voting. This goes double for the Citizens' Councils, which deliberately created an environment in which they knew white terrorism was inevitable. We must count the jurors and the editors who provided cover for Milam, Bryant, and the rest. Above all, we have to count the millions of citizens of all colors and in all regions who knew about the rampant racial injustice in America and did nothing to end it. The black novelist Chester Himes wrote a letter to the New York Post the day he heard the news of Milam's and Bryant's acquittals: 'The real horror comes when your dead brain must face the fact that we as a nation don't want it to stop. If we wanted to, we would.

If you tell people you’re writing a book about the Beatles, at first they smile and ask, “Another one? What’s left to say?” So I mention “Baby’s in Black,” or “It’s All Too Much,” or Lil Wayne’s version of “Help” or the Kendrick Lamar battle rhyme where he says “blessings to Paul McCartney,” or Hollywood Bowl, or Rock ’n’ Roll Music, or the Beastie Boys’ “I’m Down”—but I rarely get that far, because they’re already jumping in with their favorite overlooked Beatle song, the artifact nobody else prizes properly, the nuances nobody else notices. Within thirty seconds they’re assigning me a new chapter I must write. And telling me a story to go with it. Every few days, I get into a Beatles argument I’ve never had before, while continuing other arguments that have been raging since my childhood. And though I’ve spent my whole life devouring every scrap of information about them, I’m constantly learning. I guarantee the day this book comes out, I will find out something new. Things like that used to pain me. But that’s what it means to love the Beatles—you never run out of surprises.

But it's not your fault. You can't control what other people do. No, but I was responsible for my own actions. At some point we had abandoned responsibility and began fostering corruption in others so that we might shield ourselves from persecution by virtue of a common guilt. We did this in the name of profit, and we justified our crimes with the rationalization that, somewhere down the line, better people would safeguard our victims from us. I wasn't a looter or a moocher. I wasn't a producer either. None of us were. We certainly weren't capitalists. We were pillagers. Decency exists. That alone must make it important; even the great Darwin himself would say that. But we tried to cut decency out of others so as to lower the bar for ourselves. We are relative creatures. The man who teaches his slaves to read is a saint in a world where slavery is legal, and a monster where it isn't. We aren't born knowing if we're good or bad. We decide by comparing ourselves to others - and by that yardstick it's no different to measure by our own successes than our neighbors failures, save that it's easier to corrupt the neighbor.

Nonetheless, as Seattle's leaders and residents would discover, this new urban environment was a palimpsest of exploitation, conflict, compromise, adaptation, and defeat. Physical forces and creatures beyond human control always pushed back. So, too, did the people who suffered from the changes. The new urban ecology was never the result of purely natural forces but the combination of human power magnified or thwarted by an unpredictable physical environment. The non-human environment that enfolded the city was not predetermined, nor was the poverty that the decades of shaping and reshaping Seattle had aggravated. In the end, the ecology of urban poverty was altogether a human creation.

families impacted by autism are nearly 84 percent more likely to never attend religious services due to a felt lack of inclusion. Similar studies report that 46 percent of families impacted by disability have never been asked how their child and family could be included in the life of the church.

The diversity discussion begins by asking questions about who’s missing from our communities, our classrooms, our boardrooms, and most importantly our churches. Next, we need to ask, where are they?

It is ironic that our need to feel safe in and among differing groups is itself a subtle form of violence against the groups that we often fear will be violent toward us.

Diversity, then, is more than desegregation; diversity is rooted in full integration.

Grandfather, who usually greeted me with sneers and eye rolls, never acknowledged I was even in the room.

Amore ti accade, non sei tu che decidi quando, o di chi. A un certo punto ti ritrovi innamorato e non puoi far altro che constatarlo: è accaduto. Ecco dunque perché Dante dice: Amor prese costui, Amor mi prese. Amore accidit. Amore è un accidens. Dante lo ribadirà nel XVIII del Purgatorio: innamorarsi di Bianca Maria non è né buono né cattivo, né giusto né sbagliato. Accade e basta. Ma non è tutto, questo non è che uno degli aspetti dell’inferno dell’eros. Un altro aspetto terribile d’Amore è contenuto proprio in quel verso misterioso, che nelle serenate rap scriviamo sulle metropolitane: Amor ch’a nullo amato amar perdona, che non significa, come ci dicono da secoli, che ogni amore è necessariamente corrisposto. Cosa significa, allora? Tutto l’arcano di questo verso misterioso è in quel verbo perdonare usato in modo così lontano dal significato moderno. Era un termine tecnico della giurisprudenza in latino, sinonimo dell’attuale condonare. Si condona la pena, si perdona la colpa. Al tempo di Dante si perdonava ancora la pena, e, attraverso l’uso ecclesiastico di abbuonare pene del purgatorio, il senso del verbo stava slittando pian piano verso l’uso corrente. Insomma, proviamo a sostituire il verbo perdonare con condonare, vediamo che succede: “Amore che non condona a nessun amato l’amare”. Ed eccoci all’improvviso di fronte a un Amore giudice, un giudice inflessibile, che non ci condona la pena d’amare chi ci ama. Noi potremo anche non ricambiare l’amore, questo è il punto, ma lui non ce ne esenta. Amore non condona, Amore non fa sconti di pena. Non dice, il verso, che l’amore implica necessariamente la reciprocità, ma che sempre la esige. Nel momento in cui si insedia dentro di noi senza chiederci il permesso e ci impone di amare qualcuno, al tempo stesso non condona l’amare all’amata, e pretende immancabilmente la reciprocità. Insomma, nel momento in cui, senza sapere perché, ci innamoriamo, aspiriamo a essere ricambiati, desideriamo solo che chi amiamo ci riami. Amore è terribile, Amore è scostumato, e questo verso così misterioso è il vero epicentro della tragedia, dell’inferno d’amore. Perché nemmeno Gianciotto può condonare l’amare all’amata. Se è lui l’assassino, si condanna a una pena peggiore. Il suo sarà un inferno di ghiaccio.

All skinfolk ain’t kinfolk.

If we didn’t know our history, we’d be doomed to repeat it.

I hate fighting. I’m sensitive and, frankly, not good at it. If the consequence of bickering online means I’ve got to spend the afternoon feeling bad because a kid I don’t remember from high school called me a “fat-ass Kelly Price” over a Reductress article, please murder me. And if my tweets get on your goddamn nerves: BLOCK ME FIRST. Kill me with your powerful brain! There are too many places in real life where blocking is not a viable option to tolerate someone ruining your secret lives online. You can’t block the coworker who won’t stop fucking talking while loitering nearby as you’re just trying to put half-and-half in your breakroom coffee, but you can block that friend of a friend who says shit like, “I’m not prejudiced, I don’t care if a person is purple or green or blue.” LMAO, blue people???? SHUT THE FUCK UP. You can’t delete the neighbor whose eyesore of a car is parked halfway across your driveway and whose cat keeps shitting on your deck, but you can delete your cousin who earnestly believes that rap music is reverse racism and vehemently comments as much on every Kendrick Lamar video you share. There’s no mute button for the woman at the grocery store who won’t stop asking you where the shampoo is, even though you’re pushing your

I went to war with myself, for you.

When I step outside my comfort zone, when I step beyond my limitations and boundaries, that's when I step into your hands. When I solely rely on my trust in you, that's where your power marvels the most. When I believe in your capabilities even when I can't see them, that's when you do things beyond my power. Your miracles lies in unfamiliarity.

Everything I prayed for was given to me, but through a process. I received everything I asked the Lord for, yet they were revealed to me in ways that my eyes did not first recognize.

This is the essence of white privilege: when you’re used to having your way, it’s easy to feel threatened when you’re devoid of power. (...) They can’t deal when you don’t act scared, so they fire handguns to reclaim authority over the people they look down upon.