Sweep Under The Rug Quotes

The ministry of violence is a spiritual conflict. It’s a ministry that every child of God cannot afford to sweep under the rug. If they do, they will suffer spiritual loss, and will never be more than conquerors in Christ Jesus.

Be honest. This applies to every area of your life. Sketchiness is not an attractive trait. No more trying to cover up your baggage, sweeping things under the rug, withholding truth, blatant lying, or even telling seemingly ‘harmless’ white lies or half-truths – release the need to lie completely! Start NOW.

Some years ago, there was a lovely philosopher of science and journalist in Italy named Giulio Giorello, and he did an interview with me. And I don’t know if he wrote it or not, but the headline in Corriere della Sera when it was published was "Sì, abbiamo un'anima. Ma è fatta di tanti piccoli robot – "Yes, we have a soul, but it’s made of lots of tiny robots." And I thought, exactly. That’s the view. Yes, we have a soul, but in what sense? In the sense that our brains, unlike the brains even of dogs and cats and chimpanzees and dolphins, our brains have functional structures that give our brains powers that no other brains have - powers of look-ahead, primarily. We can understand our position in the world, we can see the future, we can understand where we came from. We know that we’re here. No buffalo knows it’s a buffalo, but we jolly well know that we’re members of Homo sapiens, and it’s the knowledge that we have and the can-do, our capacity to think ahead and to reflect and to evaluate and to evaluate our evaluations, and evaluate the grounds for our evaluations. It’s this expandable capacity to represent reasons that we have that gives us a soul. But what’s it made of? It’s made of neurons. It’s made of lots of tiny robots. And we can actually explain the structure and operation of that kind of soul, whereas an eternal, immortal, immaterial soul is just a metaphysical rug under which you sweep your embarrassment for not having any explanation.

Sweep everything under the rug for long enough, and you have to move right out of the house.

People always said things like, “Everything will work out,” or, “That won’t happen.” But what about when things didn’t work out? Or when the unthinkable did happen? You had to walk around with the knowledge that life could sweep the rug out from under you at any moment. It could, because it had.

Anything you don’t want to deal with can always be written off as being “in the past” and ignored, but in doing so, you sweep it under a rug where it doesn't go away with time – it becomes time itself, and takes on the illusion of life as we think we know it.

You had a fucking friend who needed you. What the hell was that, Jocelyn?" He shook his head slowly. "Don't," he whispered hoarsely, dipping his head so our noses were almost touching. "Don't do this. Not now. Whatever shit your spinning in that head of yours, stop. She needs you, babe." He shallowed hard, his eyes glimmering in the streetlights. "I need you." I felt that familiar choking in the bottom of my throat. "I didn't ask you to need me," I whispered back. I saw it. The hurt flickered across his face before he quickly banked it. Abruptly, he let go of me. "Fine. I don't have time for your multitude of emotional issues. I have a wee sister who may or may not have brain cancer, and she needs me, even if you don't. But I'll tell you something Jocelyn," he stepped forward, point a finger in my face, his own hardened with anger, "If you don't see her through this, you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life. You can pretend you don't give a shit about me, but you can't pretend Ellie means nothing to you. I've seen you. Do you hear me?" He hissed, his hot breath blowing across my face, his words cutting though my soul. "You love her. You can't sweep that under the rug because it's easier to pretend she means nothing to you than it is to bear the thought of losing her. She deserves better than that.

To develop an armored mind—a mindset so calloused and hard that it becomes bulletproof—you need to go to the source of all your fears and insecurities. Most of us sweep our failures and evil secrets under the rug, but when we run into problems, that rug gets lifted up, and our darkness re-emerges, floods our soul, and influences the decisions which determine our character.

Dont keep sweeping your troubles under the rug for someday you'll trip over it.

She was back to her old ways. Sweeping pieces of crazy under the rug.

The prideful, rational mind, comfortable with its certainty, enamoured of its own brilliance, is easily tempted to ignore error, and to sweep dirt under the rug. Literary, existential philosophers, beginning with Søren Kierkegaard, conceived of this mode of Being as “inauthentic.” An inauthentic person continues to perceive and act in ways his own experience has demonstrated false. He does not speak with his own voice.

Lift the rug of your subconscious and sweep all the dirt under. Good-bye.

I've spent enough time in Catholic churches to know what it means to sweep things underneath the rug.

The problem with taking your happy pills and puttering along as before is that it's no better than sweeping dirt under the carpet. I want you to take that rug out back and beat the hell out of it.

A broom that was almost never used was leaned up against the wall. He took it and started to sweep. Dust flew up his nose. When he had been sweeping for a while he realised he had no dustpan. He swept the pile of dust under the couch. Better to have a little shit in the corners than a clean hell. He flipped through the pages of a porno, put it back. Wound his scarf around his neck until his head felt like it was about to explode, released it. Got up and took a few steps on the rug. Sank to his knees, prayed to god.

But the problem with sweeping things under a rug is eventually it all spills out. What else was hidden around here?

I remember what Owen told me. Don’t undervalue yourself. I shouldn’t sweep my hurt under the rug so Madeleine doesn’t have to feel bad. My feelings matter, too. I’m tired of pretending they don’t.

Just stop pursuing the subject we know is going to lead to disaster. Pro 17:14 - The idea is not to sweep the matter under the rug but it gives a little time for the water to recede behind the dam.

Remember to draw a line between being nice in a strong way and simply being a people pleaser. Nice: Positive, yet honest and straightforward. People pleaser: Sweeping things under the rug to avoid making waves.

I knew, of course, that we couldn’t just go on sweeping things under the rug. There were so many things there already that the rug barely touched the floor anymore.

Be brutally honest about who you are and what you want, even if you never reveal it to another soul. If you’re not, if you pretend things are different than they really are, if you try to sweep your true feelings under the rug, you will be miserable, and you won’t even know why. You will be powerless.

The claim of fine tuning is subjective. As I stated before, no measurement in physics is perfect. The amount of precision we demand can be increased or decreased at our whim. We could have an approximate measurement that has a huge margin of error and call it finely-tuned if we so desire. Theists, in particular, have a lot of such desire. They so badly want God to be an indispensable part of our universe's creation, so they see finely-tuned constants. They also tend to sweep under the rug the following fact: the vast majority of our universe is hostile to life, and they fail to consider that another hand in the proverbial deck might yield a better universe than ours, one teaming with life on every planet throughout the cosmos.

The impact of a dollar upon the heart" The impact of a dollar upon the heart Smiles warm red light Sweeping from the hearth rosily upon the white table, With the hanging cool velvet shadows Moving softly upon the door. The impact of a million dollars Is a crash of flunkeys And yawning emblems of Persia Cheeked against oak, France and a sabre, The outcry of old beauty Whored by pimping merchants To submission before wine and chatter. Silly rich peasants stamp the carpets of men, Dead men who dreamed fragrance and light Into their woof, their lives; The rug of an honest bear Under the feet of a cryptic slave Who speaks always of baubles, Forgetting state, multitude, work, and state, Champing and mouthing of hats, Making ratful squeak of hats, Hats.

American Indians share a magnificent history — rich in its astounding diversity, its integrity, its spirituality, its ongoing unique culture and dynamic tradition. It's also rich, I'm saddened to say, in tragedy, deceit, and genocide. Our sovereignty, our nationhood, our very identity — along with our sacred lands — have been stolen from us in one of the great thefts of human history. And I am referring not just to the thefts of previous centuries but to the great thefts that are still being perpetrated upon us today, at this very moment. Our human rights as indigenous peoples are being violated every day of our lives — and by the very same people who loudly and sanctimoniously proclaim to other nations the moral necessity of such rights. Over the centuries our sacred lands have been repeatedly and routinely stolen from us by the governments and peoples of the United States and Canada. They callously pushed us onto remote reservations on what they thought was worthless wasteland, trying to sweep us under the rug of history. But today, that so-called wasteland has surprisingly become enormously valuable as the relentless technology of white society continues its determined assault on Mother Earth. White society would now like to terminate us as peoples and push us off our reservations so they can steal our remaining mineral and oil resources. It's nothing new for them to steal from nonwhite peoples. When the oppressors succeed with their illegal thefts and depredations, it's called colonialism. When their efforts to colonize indigenous peoples are met with resistance or anything but abject surrender, it's called war. When the colonized peoples attempt to resist their oppression and defend themselves, we're called criminals. I write this book to bring about a greater understanding of what being an Indian means, of who we are as human beings. We're not quaint curiosities or stereotypical figures in a movie, but ordinary — and, yes, at times, extraordinary — human beings. Just like you. We feel. We bleed. We are born. We die. We aren't stuffed dummies in front of a souvenir shop; we aren't sports mascots for teams like the Redskins or the Indians or the Braves or a thousand others who steal and distort and ridicule our likeness. Imagine if they called their teams the Washington Whiteskins or the Washington Blackskins! Then you'd see a protest! With all else that's been taken from us, we ask that you leave us our name, our self-respect, our sense of belonging to the great human family of which we are all part. Our voice, our collective voice, our eagle's cry, is just beginning to be heard. We call out to all of humanity. Hear us!

Yes, we are raw. Yes, we are in the dark belly of a whale. Yes, we ache. Who can be Jesus' "little sunbeam" at such a time? Would Jesus even want such a thing? He is after much more than happiness in our lives. He is after a sustaining joy and he will give us that joy by giving us himself, whether through the small gifts of life that bring us gladness or through the dark night of suffering. Sweeping affliction under the rug of our heart, therefore, is simple denial, an act of cowardice, and act of ungratefulness. We must dare to look it square in the eyes.

For a lot of people identifying problems is difficult to do. Most people would rather celebrate all the things that are going well while sweeping problems under the rug. Those people have their priorities exactly backward, and there is little that can be more harmful to an organization. Don’t undermine your progress in pursuit of a pat on the back; celebrate finding out what is not going well so you can make it go better. Thinking about problems that are difficult to solve may make you anxious, but not thinking about them (and therefore not dealing with them) should make you even more anxious.

I’ve been so eager to make my time at Liberty tolerable that I’ve been sweeping all kinds of dirt under the rug. Homophobia? Nah, they’re just a little behind the times. Using religion to justify violence? Nope, not since the Crusades. But tonight, sitting there at my desk as my roommates reenacted The Laramie Project, I realized how naïve I was. My aunt Tina was right: this stuff does exist, and it does hurt people, and although there are lots of people at Liberty who condemn violence against gays—including Dr. Falwell himself—the number of students who want to give them the Goliath treatment isn’t zero. In fact, the number who live in my room isn’t zero.

No one ever understood what got into us that year, or why we hated so intensely the crust of dead bugs over our lives. Suddenly, however, we couldn't bear the fish flies carpeting our swimming pools, filling our mailboxes, blotting out stars on our flags. The collective action of digging the trench led to cooperative sweeping, bag-carting, patio-hosing. A score of brooms kept time in all directions as the pale ghosts of fish flies dropped from walls like ash. We examined their tiny wizards' faces, rubbing them between our fingers until they gave off the scent of carp. We tried to light them but they wouldn't burn (which made the fish flies seem deader than anything). We hit bushes, beat rugs, turned on windshield wipers full blast. Fish flies clogged sewer grates so that we had to stuff them down with sticks. Crouching over sewers, we could hear the river under the city flowing away. We dropped rocks and listened for the splash

In the future that globalists and feminists have imagined, for most of us there will only be more clerkdom and masturbation. There will only be more apologizing, more submission, more asking for permission to be men. There will only be more examinations, more certifications, mandatory prerequisites, screening processes, background checks, personality tests, and politicized diagnoses. There will only be more medication. There will be more presenting the secretary with a cup of your own warm urine. There will be mandatory morning stretches and video safety presentations and sign-off sheets for your file. There will be more helmets and goggles and harnesses and bright orange vests with reflective tape. There can only be more counseling and sensitivity training. There will be more administrative hoops to jump through to start your own business and keep it running. There will be more mandatory insurance policies. There will definitely be more taxes. There will probably be more Byzantine sexual harassment laws and corporate policies and more ways for women and protected identity groups to accuse you of misconduct. There will be more micro-managed living, pettier regulations, heavier fines, and harsher penalties. There will be more ways to run afoul of the law and more ways for society to maintain its pleasant illusions by sweeping you under the rug. In 2009 there were almost five times more men either on parole or serving prison terms in the United States than were actively serving in all of the armed forces.[64] If you’re a good boy and you follow the rules, if you learn how to speak passively and inoffensively, if you can convince some other poor sleepwalking sap that you are possessed with an almost unhealthy desire to provide outstanding customer service or increase operational efficiency through the improvement of internal processes and effective organizational communication, if you can say stupid shit like that without laughing, if your record checks out and your pee smells right—you can get yourself a J-O-B. Maybe you can be the guy who administers the test or authorizes the insurance policy. Maybe you can be the guy who helps make some soulless global corporation a little more money. Maybe you can get a pat on the head for coming up with the bright idea to put a bunch of other guys out of work and outsource their boring jobs to guys in some other place who are willing to work longer hours for less money. Whatever you do, no matter what people say, no matter how many team-building activities you attend or how many birthday cards you get from someone’s secretary, you will know that you are a completely replaceable unit of labor in the big scheme of things.

I’m saying a scattergun approach will always look good, as long as you put the spotlight on the successes and sweep the failures under the rug.

The message should come from the top. The highest-ranking person available should take control in a forceful way. Spread the message far and wide. Use whatever megaphone you have. Don’t try to sweep it under the rug. “No comment” is not an option. Apologize the way a real person would and explain what happened in detail. Honestly be concerned about the fate of your customers—then prove it.

Nobody had the power to bury a gun violence prevention bill, take a nap on immigration, or sweep major legislation under the rug and not vote on it.

When you muster the courage to processes reality as it is instead of sweeping feelings or emotions under the rug, you become stronger.

Every domain has different components needed for mastery.   It’s not hard to figure out what they are. Study everything rigorously and implement everything you find.   This is the theme you see over and over again at really outsized successes: at Walmart, Sam Walton studied everything. At Toyota, they studied every aspect of making automobiles and tried to refine every single one of them to perfection. Under the leadership of Wozniak, Jobs, and Ive among others, Apple of course became fanatical about getting the tiniest details perfect.   It’s not complicated.   You study everything in your domain.   If something does fail or go wrong, you don’t sweep it under the rug – you study it relentlessly, and put new policies in place, and then train them up.

We’re in it together, and we won’t sweep it under the rug. Because pain is better not covered up, but channelled into something else.

I didn't want you to see her like that," and I feel the old anger: I already had seen her like that. Why is this so easy for them to forget? Their wishful amnesia may come from a place of love, but it makes me feel terribly alone.

Research indicates that people who suffer from shame and self-judgment are more likely to blame others for their moral failures. Who wants to admit their inadequacies when it means facing the attack dogs of self-criticism? It’s easier to sweep things under the rug or point your finger at someone else.

Most of us sweep our failures and evil secrets under the rug, but when we run into problems, that rug gets lifted up, and our darkness re-emerges, floods our soul, and influences the decisions that determine our character.

It's been a week,' I said by way of greeting. 'Take me home.' Rhys took a long sip of whatever was in his cup. It didn't look like tea. 'Good morning, Feyre.' 'Take me home.' He studied my teal and gold clothes, a variation of my daily attire. If I had to admit, I didn't mind them. 'That colour suits you.' 'Do you want me to say please? Is that it?' 'I want you to talk to me like a person. Start with 'good morning' and let's see where it gets us.' 'Good morning. A faint smile. Bastard. 'Are you ready to face the consequences of your departure?' I straightened. I hadn't thought about the wedding. All week, yes, but today... today I'd only thought of Tamlin, of wanting to see him, hold him, ask him about everything Rhys had claimed. ... 'It's none of your business.' 'Right. You'll probably ignore it, anyway. Sweep it under the rug, like everything else.' 'No one asked for your opinion, Rhysand.' 'Rhysand?' He chuckled, low and soft. 'I give you a week of luxury and you call me Rhysand?' 'I didn't ask to be here, or be given that week.' 'And yet look at you. Your face has some colour- and those marks under your eyes are almost gone. Your mental shield is stellar, by the way.' 'Please take me home.

If you keep sweeping things under the rug, eventually the rug doesn’t lie flat anymore.” “Then you trip on it and fall on your face?” “Exactly.

I detested her. But…my resentment is uncalled for, wouldn’t you say? The one who made her do it was I. While declaring that it was all for my master’s sake…I was only thinking of myself. I just sought my own peace of mind. So young and immature was I then that I was unable to come to that very realization at once. When I finally did, endless despair gnawed at my body. I truly am…such an imbecile and so utterly helpless….” “But…people aren’t so tough that they can live only for themselves…at least, that’s what I think, Break. Maybe the way you went about it was wrong, Break. But…if you’re even sweeping your feelings from back then under the rug like they’re something filthy….that right there makes me think you’re running away. Break…maybe you’re a whole lot weaker than even I think you are. But…I feel that you’re much, much stronger than you consider yourself to be.

I can whitewash your little trip out to OR-Kappa-2722 for you. I can sweep it under the rug if you like. You can go back to leading Rapier Squadron and having your hands tied by Command, by Major Deso, by politicians who don’t recognize what’s happening right before their eyes. I can make it all go away, Poe.” She leaned forward. “Or you can join the Resistance and help us stop the First Order before it’s too late.” “Where do I sign up?” Poe asked.

There comes a point when you can only sweep so much under the rug, 'til you feel lumps under your feet and your path seems to become less ccomfortable".

There comes a point when you can only sweep so much under the rug, 'til you feel lumps under your feet and your path seems to become less ccomfortable.

There comes a point when you can only sweep so much under the rug, 'til you feel lumps under your feet and your path seems to become less comfortable.

During the 1930s, President Franklin D. Roosevelt sent members of his brain trust to Europe to study fascist economic programs, which he considered more advanced than anything his New Deal had implemented to date. FDR was enamored with Mussolini, whom he called the “admirable Italian gentleman.” Some Democrats even had a soft spot for Hitler: young JFK went to Germany before World War II and praised Hitler as a “legend” and blamed hostility to the Nazis as jealousy resulting from how much the Nazis had accomplished. Yes, I know. Very little of this is understood by people today because progressives have done such a good job of sweeping it all under the rug.

Despite the experimental success of the theory...the fact that the infinities occur at all continues to produce grumbling...Dirac in particular always referred to renormalization as sweeping the infinities under the rug. I disagreed with Dirac and argued the point with him at conferences at Coral Gables and Lake Constance. Taking account of the difference between the bare charge and mass of the electron and their measured values is not merely a trick that is invented to get rid of infinities; it is something we would have to do even if everything was finite. There is nothing arbitrary or ad hoc about the procedure; it is simply a matter of correctly identifying what we are actually measuring.

We notice our evolution when we realize that sweeping our problems under the rug is useless.

So yeah, maybe this will be the rest of our lives. Pot roast and Diet Cokes and my parents making eyes at each other. As for those slaps and punches and hateful words, we'll just sweep those under the rug or wherever they can go.

Growing in faith doesn’t mean that you’ll never wrestle with doubt and faith. If anything, the wrestling and doubt can be more intense when your faith is being stretched. The way to grow through times of doubt is not to act as though everything is fine and to sweep the doubts under the rug. It’s to acknowledge and address the obstacles and objections as you meet them. By taking each doubt and objection seriously, even if you don’t immediately arrive at a satisfying resolution, you’ll be growing a faith that can weather even bigger storms later on.

Stop Pretending Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. ROMANS 12:9 NLT Many times in our lives we are hurt deeply by those closest to us. And because they are family members or people that we must maintain a relationship with, we pretend to love them by sweeping issues under the rug. We go through the motions of relating to them in peace while nursing bitterness in our hearts. Mother Teresa said, “If we really want to love we must learn how to forgive.” God wants our relationships to be real. He wants us to be real with Him and real with others. Pretending is being dishonest. He says in Matthew 15:7–8 that the religious leaders honored Him with their lips, but their hearts were far from Him. He calls them hypocrites. Are you hypocritical in your close relationships? Are you pretending to love when you feel nothing even close? Tell the Lord how you feel. Ask for His help to overcome your fear of sharing your heart and being real with Him and others. Learn how to forgive, and watch as the Lord transforms your relationships into something that honors Him. Heavenly Father, help me overcome my fear of sharing my true feelings. Forgive me for pretending to love when my heart is not in it. I want to live in authentic relationship with You and with those I love. Amen.

Since we regard our self or I as so very precious and important, we exaggerate our own good qualities and develop an inflated view of ourself. Almost anything can serve as a basis for this arrogant mind, such as our appearance, possessions, knowledge, experiences, or status. If we make a witty remark we think, “I’m so clever!” or if we have traveled around the world we feel that this automatically makes us a fascinating person. We can even develop pride on the basis of things we should be ashamed of, such as our ability to deceive others, or on qualities that we only imagine we possess. On the other hand we find it very hard to accept our mistakes and shortcomings. We spend so much time contemplating our real or imagined good qualities that we become oblivious to our faults. In reality our mind is full of gross delusions but we ignore them and may even fool ourself into thinking that we do not have such repulsive minds. This is like pretending that there is no dirt in our house after sweeping it under the rug.

There was a time when a young person rose when an adult entered the room, would not consider calling adults by their first names, and automatically came to the door to pick up a date. I am not nostalgic for this time. Socially acceptable behavior also included discrimination of every sort, sweeping family problems under the rug, and establishing household order through intimidation and submissive deference to Dad the All-Knowing Patriarch.

Face your big troubles, don’t sweep them under the rug.

You don’t need to know everything about menopause to get the support you need. But what will be helpful is to have a fairly detailed understanding of the changes in the endocrine system that lead up to menopause, as well as the significant impact these changes can have on the body. Many practitioners will use the difficulty of the subject and the general lack of knowledge to sweep your symptoms under the rug quickly without offering any potential solutions.

Yet in a move that Airbnb tried to sweep under the rug, Joyce resigned before the end of the year over concerns about how the behemoth was sharing data on millions of its users—without their knowledge—with the Chinese Communist Party.

Reputations can’t be built on sweeping things under the rug,” I reminded her. “They’re built on stories. You’re in control of your story and how it’s told… or not told.

Not every adult is emotionally equipped to nurture and raise children, and we cannot afford to sweep these conversations under the rug anymore.

Look at me, sweeping shit under the rug just like my mother.

when we’re arguing to win, we usually marshal the evidence on our side of the argument and emphasize it.  Meanwhile, we do our best to sweep the evidence supporting the other side of the argument under the rug and hope no one notices the bulge it makes there. Note,

Rudy entered and almost tripped over something. “Danny, you really ought to stop sweeping things under the rug. What the hell is this anyway?” “Uh,” Danny peered around the corner, “I’m pretty sure that was a toaster.” Rudy was holding up mangled pieces of metal that he fished from beneath the carpet. “It broke,” Danny shrugged. “Drink?” Rudy put the toaster back under the rug. “Please. A single malt, preferably from the Highlands.” “You’ll take a glass of carrot juice and you’ll like it!” Danny poured Rudy and himself a few fingers of something that was either scotch or carrot juice.

That thought makes my chest ache, so I shove it aside. I do that really well. I love sweeping things under rugs. I have an extensive collection of brooms.

What’s uncalled for are bruises on her face,” I said, spinning him around to look at Lina. Seeing her hurt unleashed something ugly inside me. Something that wanted to sweep all her infractions under the rug. Something that wanted to keep her close so no one else could get near her.

The point is to get it right, not to win the case, not to sweep under the rug all the assorted puzzles and inconsistencies.

History is history, and there's no use tryin' to sweep it under the rug.

There is a lot of suffering that takes place in the world, a lot of evil. If we are going to have a religion that is worth anything to us, if we are going to believe in a God who makes any difference in our lives, we have to know the very worst that happens. This is the worst. And this worst is not a kind of embarrassed exception to everything else. It is the climax. This is that toward which everything has moved. The cross of Jesus is not an unfortunate episode that we should try to sweep under the rug, the skeleton in the closet of the gospel. This is the place of arrival, the goal. And none of us fails to be moved by it. If Jesus could enter this world and be unflinchingly courageous in this extreme adversity, be such a magnificent “failure,” then I can also live with meaning and love in whatever comes my way.

It is possible you were raised in a dysfunctional home. A lot of people have been around negative, unhealthy, toxic behavior and, to some extent, tried to normalize it. They paint the picture as “this is just what happens in relationships.” When this environment is normalized, you do not realize or grasp how unhealthy it is. You begin to validate, rationalize, explain and sweep it under the rug. What is evident is that it is a problem and should not be dismissed.

The agenda-setting influence of political parties, which is often considered as a dysfunctional if not outright immoral part of public policy-making, may in fact be vital to overcome Condorcet's paradox as a central theoretical limitation of democracy. By endorsing certain candidates or policies while strategically sweeping others under the rug, political parties indirectly help to reduce the likelihood of situations in which the general public's electoral choices would endlessly 'cycle' and thus lead to irrational policy outcomes. When viewed from a purely epistemic perspective of collective decision making political vices can in principle be cognitively virtuous.

Most of us sweep our failures and evil secrets under the rug, but when we run into problems, that rug gets lifted up, and our darkness re-emerges, floods our soul, and influences the decisions which determine our character.

You can sweep broken glass under the carpet, but eventually it will work its way through the rug and cut your foot.

No. No, that's what you want. I know. You want me to sulk for a couple of days, then get over it, and we'll get old and wrinkly and pretend that there was never a time when we fought about this. You might actually forget about it for real. In fact, I know you will. That's what you do. You've got one big-ass rug in your brain, Micah, and you're really good at sweeping shit under it that you never want to see again.

Every day it got swept. All of the dirt each piece of dust and even the tiniest bread crumb of secret midnight snacks. It lay under that rug. Years went by nobody noticed it’s more defeated crumbled appearance with all the misshaped lumps and bumps. Eventually a boy drips and falls over it people are so surprised and nobody knows what why or how it could have happened. Not even the lady with the sweeping brush.

Bible affirms in Mark 10:9, “What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” Yet we’re putting our marriages asunder. So many havejumped the broom and used that same broom to sweep their issues under the rug.

People who flaunt their sin in the name of grace don’t know what grace is. They don’t know what to do with the gift they’ve been given, so they make it into something it isn’t: a get-out-of-jail-free card, a cover-up, a rug to sweep the nasty stuff under.