Sinners Consumed Quotes

When did he pass out lastnight?" Eric asked Myrna. "After he swallowed my banana and I forced him to consume my fluids.

If I drown, you’re drowning with me. If you burn, I’m burning too. Pick your route to hell, Rafe. The destination and the company are the same.

Because even though I’m unlucky with you, I feel even unluckier without you.

My heart has caught fire, and I’m in love with the Queen who lit the match.

She’s damaged. Broken by men from our world, and it’s my responsibility to patch her back up and make sure she never shatters again.

Vodka.” My shoulders pull taut. “Since when did you start drinking vodka?” “Since you said you wouldn’t kiss me if I drank whiskey.

Where are we going?” Although, my heart already knows. “My bedroom.” “Why?” I whisper. He shifts his forearms under my ass. “So I can fuck you, Penelope. Why else?

My Queen of Hearts,” he rasps in fascination, more to himself than to me. “My beautiful demise.

That’s what it feels like to love you, Ellington Jade Asher. It’s goddamn fucking consuming. Suffocating.

Lust burns. Love cuts. But betrayal? It fucking incinerates.

It’s bound in mustard-yellow leather with a title embossed on the cover. Penelope Price for Dummies.

If I don’t put you back together after I break you, then there’ll be nothing to break next time.

If you’ve never felt it, how do you know?” I close my eyes. I’ve got too many words and not enough ways to order them. How do I know? Because saying it aloud is as easy as breathing. Because even the mention of her name lights my skin on fire. Because she’s my first thought in the morning, and my last at night.

You’re all I think about. My mind is constantly consumed by you, and it scares the hell out of me.

You’re friends with benefits.” “We’re not friends.” “Enemies with benefits, then. Jeez, Pen. Have you never had a fuck buddy before?

I want him gone. Off my body, out of my heart. I want my ears to forget his silky laugh, my nose to forget his scent.

This obsession with Mara consumes me. It’s all I think about. It directs every action I take. I’ve never felt so out of control—which upsets me.

now I look like the girl I always swore I’d never be. Vulnerable. Used. Stupid enough to get played by a fucking man. I’m an ungraceful winner, sure, but I’m an even worse loser. And love really is a losing game.

Take the word saved as it is used in the evangelical vernacular. It’s true, you are saved by grace, by love, by light … but it’s only half the story. The truth is that there is so much that you’re not saved from. You are not saved from pain or loneliness or the bite of reality sharp against your skin. You’re not saved from rained-out picnics, from disappointment, from the unkindness of strangers. You’re not saved from lost jobs or lost loves or cancer or car accidents. Saved. But they say, It’s not religion, it’s a relationship. They say, God loves the sinner but hates the sin. They say, Let go and let God. And they’re worse than cliché, really. They’re thought-terminating cliché, a term that psychologist, Robert Lifton, coined in his book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism. In this type of cliché, “the most far-reaching and complex of human problems are compressed into brief, highly reductive, definitive-sounding phrases, easily memorized and easily expressed.

The boy River had grown into Styx the man and, despite his flaws and his harshness, he was all I wanted. All I had ever wanted. I was completely consumed by his every touch, his taste and smell, and at that moment, I gave my soul whole-heartedly, to a sinner.

How in hell had a casual embrace turned into an all-consuming kiss? Edgy and rattled, Joaquin stalked back to his cantina, The Watering Hole. Reluctantly, he accepted it had been one of those moments his mother used to call earthquake moments—they were not significant events, but deep down you knew that the repercussions could alter the course of your life.

Wallingford vaulted up from his chair. “You’ve come here so that I can mollify you and share in your belittling of Anais? Well, you’ve knocked on the wrong bloody door, Raeburn, because I will not join you in disparaging Anais. I will not! Not when I know what sort of woman she is—she is better than either of us deserves. Damn you, I know what she means to you. I know how you’ve suffered. You want her and you’re going to let a mistake ruin what you told me only months ago you would die for. Ask yourself if it is worth it. Is your pride worth all the pain you will make your heart suffer through? Christ,” Wallingford growled, “if I had a woman who was willing to overlook everything I’d done in my life, every wrong deed I had done to her or others, I would be choking back my pride so damn fast I wouldn’t even taste it.” Lindsay glared at Wallingford, galled by the fact his friend— the one person on earth he believed would understand his feelings—kept chastising him for his anger, which, he believed, was natural and just. “If I had someone like Anais in my life,” Wallingford continued, blithely ignoring Lindsay’s glares, “I would ride back to Bewdley with my tail between my legs and I would do whatever I had to do in order to get her back.” “You’re a goddamned liar! You’ve never been anything but a selfish prick!” Lindsay thundered. “What woman would you deign to lower yourself in front of? What woman could you imagine doing anything more to than fucking?” Wallingford’s right eye twitched and Lindsay wondered if his friend would plant his large fist into his face. He was mad enough for it, Lindsay realized, but so, too, was he. He was mad, angry—all but consumed with rage, but the bluster went out of him when Wallingford spoke. “I’ve never bothered to get to know the women I’ve been with. Perhaps if I had, I would have found one I could have loved—one I could have allowed myself to be open with. But out of the scores of women I’ve pleasured, I’ve only ever been the notorious, unfeeling and callous libertine—that is my shame.Your shame is finding that woman who would love you no matter what and letting her slip through your fingers because she is not the woman your mind made her out to be. You have found something most men only dream of. Things that I have dreamed of and coveted for myself. The angel is dead. It is time to embrace the sinner, for if you do not, I shall expect to see you in hell with me. And let me inform you, it’s a burning, lonely place that once it has its hold on you, will never let you go. Think twice before you allow pride to rule your heart.” “What do you know about love and souls?” Lindsay growled as he stalked to the study door. “I know that a soul is something I don’t have, and love,” Wallingford said softly before he downed the contents of his brandy, “love is like ghosts, something that everyone talks of but few have seen. You are one of the few who have seen it and sometimes I hate you for it. If I were you, I’d think twice about throwing something like that away, but of course, I’m a selfish prick and do as I damn well please.” “You do indeed.” Wallingford’s only response was to raise his crystal glass in a mock salute.“To hell,” he muttered,“make certain you bring your pride. It is the only thing that makes the monotony bearable.

This is often the primary difference between him and so many of those of us who follow him. When we encounter the many ills of the world, we find ourselves growing more and more callous toward people, more and more judgmental, less and less hopeful. Rather than seeing the hurting humanity we encounter every day as an opportunity to be the very loving presence of Jesus, we see them as reason to withdraw from it all. Faith becomes about retreating from the world when it should be about moving toward it. As we walk deeper into organized religion, we run the risk of eventually becoming fully blind to the tangible suffering around us, less concerned about mending wounds or changing systems, and more preoccupied with saving or condemning souls. In this way, the spiritual eyes through which we see the world change everything. If our default lens is sin, we tend to look ahead to the afterlife, but if we focus on suffering, we’ll lean toward presently transforming the planet in real time—and we’ll create community accordingly. The former seeks to help people escape the encroaching moral decay by getting them into heaven; the latter takes seriously the prayer Jesus teaches his disciples, that they would make the kingdom come—that through lives resembling Christ and work that perpetuates his work, we would actually bring heaven down. Practically speaking, sin management seems easier because essentially all that is required of us is to preach, to call out people’s errors and invite them to repentance, and to feel we’ve been faithful. But seeing suffering requires us to step into the broken, jagged chaos of people’s lives to be agents of healing and change. It’s far more time consuming and much more difficult to do as a faith community. It is a lot easier to train preachers to lead people in a Sinner’s Prayer than it is to equip them to address the systematic injustices around them.

ξύλα καὶ χόρτος καὶ καλάμη ὥστε μηκέτι ὑπάρχειν—ἀδύνατον δέ ἐστιν οὕτως ἀφανισθῆναι, ἀλλὰ ᾗ χόρτος εἰσὶν ἀφανίζονται· καὶ γὰρ τὸ πῦρ τοῦτο τὸ τῆς κολάσεως οὐκ ἐνεργεῖ εἰς οὐσίαν, ἀλλ᾽ εἰς ἕξεις καὶ ποιότητας. ἀναλίσκει τὸ πῦρ τοῦτο οὐ κτίσματα, ἀλλὰ ποιὰς καταστάσεις, ἕξεις τοιάσδε. It is impossible that wood, grass, and straw disappear in such a way as to not exist any more, but they [viz., sinners] will disappear insofar as they are grass and so on. Indeed, this fire of the corrective punishment is not active against the substance, but against the habits and qualities. For this fire consumes, not creatures, but certain conditions and certain habits. (Didymus, Comm. In Ps. 20-21 col. 21.15)

Moses saw the burning burn, yet the bush was not consumed. He turned aside at the wonder of it all, and in doing so, he came into the presence of God. It changed him forever! Why do we not see changes like this in every new believer? I am convinced it is our fault—we do not expect anything, and often become quite uncomfortable when someone we would lead to Christ expresses emotion. So we carefully prepare tracts that explain perfectly the doctrine, but we make no preparation for what might happen if the person should, God forbid, actually be overwhelmed by the spirit. We do not act like we even believe much has happened, yet the Bible says the angels in heaven rejoice over one sinner finding his way back.

To he "over-choiced" with thirty different kinds of bread does indeed develop the shopper's awareness of differentiation and sense of taste. However, from the ego that is becoming dependent on such a surplus of choice, it also takes away the time and energy for other life pursuits. The ego is diverted and, with the help of the world of consumer goods, "turned in on itself" (bomo incur-vatus in se ipsum), as the tradition used to depict the sinner. The least to he learned from the tradition of mysticism is that becoming empty in a world of surplus, learning to switch off, and limiting oneself are small steps in the liberation from consumerism, and that perhaps freedom cannot he imagined without letting go.

Pull out a match and light up a million notes and a million words, consume the energy on papers like its fuel, and all the long lost feelings are your coal. Set the whole thing on fire and never look back, an expert on regrets and mistakes, tell the story as easy as a philosophical theory; devils disguised as angels, angels turning into devils, and the perfectionist in between always stuck in the middle. Tired and hurt, but angry till I burn, watching a sinner blaming life and life taking his side still, anyway I took my advice and kept the things I loved from day one aside, so I'm not alone and love is also taking my side. Save the date, it's 365 days in training, and we finally reached the end of our magical tragic failure and if you are smart then it's not a surprise; you know that my sky is not raining. Take out a match and burn this house down, it took me two seconds to figure out that I deserve solid better-looking ground. So let me feel the heat in my brain blow out and my heart beating in its place safe and sound inside.

religious world today. God’s mercy has been trifled with. The multitudes make void the law of Jehovah, “teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.” Matthew 15:9. Infidelity prevails in many of the churches in our land; not infidelity in its broadest sense—an open denial of the Bible—but an infidelity that is robed in the garb of Christianity, while it is undermining faith in the Bible as a revelation from God. Fervent devotion and vital piety have given place to hollow formalism. As the result, apostasy and sensualism prevail. Christ declared, “As it was in the days of Lot, ...even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.” Luke 17:28, 30. The daily record of passing events testifies to the fulfillment of his words. The world is fast becoming ripe for destruction. Soon the judgments of God are to be poured out, and sin and sinners are to be consumed.

What a subject is this for our contemplation! "The same fire," says St. Chrysostom, "which purifies gold, consumes wood; so in the fire of tribulation the just acquire new beauty and perfection, while the wicked, like dry wood, are reduced to ashes." (Hom.14 in Matt.1). St. Cyprian expresses the same thought by another illustration: "As the wind in harvest time scatters the chaff but cleanses the wheat, so the winds of adversity scatter the wicked but purify the just." (De Unitate Eccl.).   The passage of the children of Israel through the Red Sea is still another figure of the same truth. Like protecting walls the waters rose on each side of the people, and gave them a safe passage to the dry land; but as soon as the Egyptian army with its king and chariots had entered the watery breach, the same waves closed upon them and buried them in the sea. In like manner the waters of tribulation are a preservation to the just, while to the wicked they are a tempestuous gulf which sweeps them into the abyss of rage, of blasphemy, and of despair.

Submission empowers to resist James4,1-11 says: "1 From whence come wars and fightings among you? come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members? 2 Ye lust, and have not: ye kill, and desire to have, and cannot obtain: ye fight and war, yet ye have not, because ye ask not. 3 Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts. 4 Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God? whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God. 5 Do ye think that the scripture saith in vain, The spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy? 6 But he giveth more grace. Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. 7 Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. 8 Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double minded. 9 Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness. 10 Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up. 11 Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law: but if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but a judge." The truth is that we cannot receive anything from God if we don't submit ourselves to The Word. The Lord Jesus was able to defeat the devil because, He was living a submitted life, a true life full of testimony. Today, most people want to receive or to hear from God without even submit their lives to the complete word in order not to lean on your own decisions, your own understanding. God listens to those that are submitting their lives to His word! Shalom.

Once the consuming fire of God’s love has destroyed, whether in this life, in purgatory, or in hell itself, everything that is false within us, once nothing of the false self remains for us to cling to, then nothing of our opposition to God will remain either. For then we shall see through all of the illusions that made such opposition possible in the first place. And then we shall discover the most glorious truth of all: everything that sinners fear most about God—the wrath and the fearsome punishment associated with his righteous ordinances—was never anything more than a schoolmaster to bring them to Christ and thus to save them from themselves.

Far from condoning sin, his love has found a way to expose it (because he is light) and to consume it (because he is fire) without destroying the sinner, but rather saving him.

The sinners in Zion are afraid;trembling seizes the ungodly:“Who among us can dwell with a consuming fire? mWho among us can dwell with ever-burning flames? ”15 The one who lives righteously

I’d always thought real prayer, real religious expression, had to be unique. Individualistic. New and tailored for the person expressing it because otherwise what’s the point? But for the first time, I feel the power of praying words alongside someone else, the power of praying words so familiar and ancient they come from some hitherto unknown part of my mind. The part of my mind that isn’t consumed with accounting and finance, the part that isn’t even rational or entirely civilized. It’s a part of me so deep, so elemental, I can’t even name it. But it responds to the old words like trees to wind, rustling awake, stretching roots deep, deep down. The words don’t care about my feelings, about my petty sulks and mortal frustrations. The words are there anyway, just as the humanness inside me is there anyway, and for one clear, shimmering moment, I understand. I understand how you can convict God of terrible crimes and then go to evening prayer. I understand that hate was never, ever the opposite of belief. I understand that belief isn’t a coat to be put on and worn in all kinds of weather, even the blistering sun. Belief is this. Praying when you don’t feel like it, when you don’t know who or what is listening; it’s doing the actions with the trust that something about it matters. That something about it makes you more human, a better human, a human able to love and trust and hope in a world where those things are hard. That is belief. That is the point of prayer. Not logging a wish list inside a cosmic ledger, not bartering for transactional services. You do it for the change it works on you and on those around you; the point of it is…itself. Nothing more and nothing less.

The Collapse of Society 21Look how the once faithful city has become as unfaithful as a prostitute! She who was once the “Center of Justice,” where righteousness made its home, is now the dwelling place of murderers!ap 22She was once like sterling silver, now only mixture; once so pure, now diluted like watered-down wine.aq 23Your rulers are rebellious and companions of crooks. They are self-centered racketeers who love a bribe and who chase after payoffs. They don’t defend the fatherless or consider the rights of a helpless widow. 24Therefore, here is what the Sovereign One decrees, the Lord God of Angel Armies, the Mighty One of Israel: “Ah,ar I will get relief from my adversaries and avenge myself on my foes!as 25I will bring my fiery hand upon you and burn you and purify you into something clean.”at God Promises Deliverers 26“I will restore deliverers as in former times and your wise counselors as at the beginning.au Only then will you be called the Righteous City and the Faithful City!”av 27Yes, Zion will be redeemed with justice and her repentant converts with righteousness.aw 28There will be a shattering of rebels and sinners together, and those who forsake the Lord will be consumed. 29You will reap shame from the idols you once delighted in and you will be humiliated by your cultic sacred groves,ax where you chose to worship. 30You will be like an oak tree with faded, fallen leaves and like a withered, waterless garden. 31The “powerful elite” will become like kindling and their evil deeds like sparks—both will burn together and no one will be able to put out the fire. a 1:1 Or “prophecy.

The cold can’t touch me. I’m pure fire, burning and burning, but never consumed.

Those who don’t feel the normal range of emotions are better at noticing when a smile comes a second too late, or when it doesn’t quite consume the whole face. We learn to imitate sympathy, interest, humor … but like Alastor’s Rolex, some counterfeits are better than others.

I’m trying to catch my breath. Unable to answer even if I wanted to. The betrayal I feel from Sin all too consuming. Why would he tell her? When did he tell her?

Far from condoning sin, his love has found a way to expose it (because he is light) and to consume it (because he is fire) without destroying the sinner, but rather saving him.”[6] This is how we know he loves us.

And now I see . . . a spark. A spark that interests me. I want to hold it in my hands. Manipulate it. Examine it. Mara has a kind of power separate from my own. I want to know if I can harness it. Or consume it.

Men like Scott, men consumed by their egos and their desire to assert dominance at the top of hierarchies only they could see, didn't have the capacity to set aside their petty aspirations even in the face of death.

Love is deliberate; it’s raw, it’s powerful. And I am fully consumed in it.

There is a vast darkness consuming my soul, but Johnny is my compass, always guiding me home.

men consumed by their egos and their desire to assert dominance at the top of hierarchies only they could see, didn’t have the capacity to set aside their petty aspirations even in the face of death.

Want to know a secret?” I can only nod in response. “I’ve never done this, either.

Rafe’s the dictionary definition of indifference.

Ye speak of the Christianized version,” Agnes corrected him. “Originally, the sluagh was known to hang about houses and weaken a healthy person till they sickened and died. Then it would consume their soul. After, it became the sinners that it would do that with.

Jesus is what God has to say. A flat reading of the Bible allows us to proof-text any idea we want, but Jesus is the Word of God. So if Moses says to practice capital punishment and stone certain sinners, Jesus says, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone,” and God says, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him!” Or if Elijah calls down fire from heaven to consume the soldiers sent to arrest him, Jesus says, “Love your enemies,” and God says, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him!

That night in the phone booth, you told me you’d never been in love before. If you’ve never felt it, how do you know?” I close my eyes. I’ve got too many words and not enough ways to order them. How do I know? Because saying it aloud is as easy as breathing. Because even the mention of her name lights my skin on fire. Because she’s my first thought in the morning, and my last at night. Because I just. Fucking. Know. I swallow. “Because even though I’m unlucky with you, I feel even unluckier without you.

Perhaps the best way, then, to read the tough language in Matthew that all sin and all sinners will be burned up in the fire of God’s judgment is to understand it as a graphic expression of what is ultimately a glad, confident, and hopeful promise that nothing that mars God’s goodness will endure. There is no cancer, no killing virus, no Alzheimer’s, no plague, no child abuse, no tyranny, no cruelty, no oppression, no lynching, no placing of children in cages, no homelessness, no tragic tears, no suffocating loneliness, no torture, no death in the kingdom of heaven. God and God’s kingdom will be revealed to be all that truly exists, all-consuming, and nothing outside of it will have any reality at all. All that has destroyed and maimed and oppressed and polluted creation and the human prospect will be burned away like straw.

I dream about her when I’m asleep and awake. She’s consuming me to the point I’m suffocating.

Frankly, if you consume trash you're more likely to utter it for we were born sinners and were graced with conviction hence being born again (in christian terms).

If your mouth is damaged, you cannot buy another mouth to consume your food

Out of Christ, God is a consuming fire. In Christ, He is a reconciled Father. Without Christ, the strictest moralist may well tremble, as he looks forward to his end. Through Christ, the chief of sinners may approach God with confidence, and feel perfect peace.

Then,” I said, “the divine judgment, as it seems to me, does not bring punishment upon sinners according to the foregoing discussion, but rather, as the discourse demonstrated, it only effects the separation of good from evil and direction toward the fellowship of blessedness, but the tearing in pieces of what has grown together brings about pain for the one being torn apart.” “So,” said the Teacher, “that is also my reasoned opinion, and that the measure of suffering is the quantity of evil in each person; for it is not likely that the one who has become involved to such an extent in forbidden evils and the one who has fallen into moderate evils will be distressed on an equal basis in the purification of bad habits, but rather that painful flame will be kindled either to a greater or lesser degree according to the amount of matter, as long as its source of nourishment exists. Accordingly if one has a great load of the material, then the consuming flame of necessity will be great and longer-lasting for that one, but if the consumption of the fire is introduced to a lesser degree, then the punishment diminishes in degree its actions of greater violence and ferocity, in proportion to the lesser measure of evil which exists in that one. For it is necessary that at some time evil be wholly and completely removed out of existence, and as was said previously, that what does not really exist should not exist at all. For since it does not belong to its nature that evil have existence outside of the will, when every will rests in God evil will depart into utter destruction, since there is no receptacle remaining for

Logograms pose a more difficult question. An increasing number of persons and institutions, from archy and mehitabel to PostScript and TrueType, come to the the typographer in search of special treatment. In earlier days it was kings and deities whose agents demanded that their names be written in a larger size or set in a specially ornate typeface; now it is business firms and mass-market products demanding an extra helping of capitals, or a proprietary face, and poets pleading, by contrast, to be left entirely in the vernacular lower case. But type is visible speech, in which gods and men, saints and sinners, poets and business executives are treated fundamentally alike. Typographers, in keeping with the virtue of their trade, honor the stewardship of texts and implicitly oppose private ownership of words. … Logotypes and logograms push typography in the direction of hieroglyphics, which tend to be looked at rather than read. They also push it toward the realm of candy and drugs, which tend to provoke dependent responses, and away from the realm of food, which tends to promote autonomous being. Good typography is like bread: ready to be admired, appraised, and dissected before it is consumed.

Every single sin we commit, all the way back to Adam and Eve consuming the piece of forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, is therefore a failure to recognize the glory of God as our true joy, summum bonum, or chief end.

My whole life has been a struggle for independence. Every person who was supposed to love me tried to control me instead. They tried to bend me and shape me to be what they wanted, so they could use me, so they could consume me like fuel.