Wages Of Sin Quotes

The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

For the wages of sin is Death, but the gift of God is everlasting Life in Christ Jesus or LORD.

The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.

I thought what a thing of sin poverty was, that there could be nothing more sinful than forcing a small child to lie. The wages of that sin were poverty, a wage which one could not endure, leading one to sin again, and as long as one could not pull oneself out of poverty the cycle would repeat until death.

If that’s what bein’ bad does to you, Nanny thought, I could of done with some of that years ago. The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

My head and heart waged civil war against each other and, for the first time in my life, my heart was winning.

Oh, hell," Thandi muttered, her heart lower than ever. "I really blew it, didn't I?" "Don't be silly," Berry scolded. "It's just your first lovers' spat. You accused of him of being an inhuman fiend, and he got a little miffed. No big deal.

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord

All those severe poets talking big about the wages of sin all the time,” Zee added, “but nobody ever brought up the wages of virtue. The toll of trying really really hard to be good in a game that’s totally rigged against goodness.

Inside Laila too a battle was being waged : guilt on one side, partnered with shame, and, on the other, the conviction that what she and Tariq had done was not sinful; that it had been natural, good, beautiful, even inevitable, spurred by the knowledge that they might never see each other again.

Grief is a sin. Loss is God’s design, and to mourn the dead is to insult His vision. To despair at His will is sacrilege. How dare you betray His plan by grieving what was always His to take? Unfaithful, disgusting heretic, you should be hung from the wall so the nonbelievers will know what’s coming for them. Romans 6:23—for the wages of sin is death.

My message, unchanged for more than fifty years, is this: God loves you unconditionally, as you are and not as you should be, because nobody is as they should be. It is the message of grace…A grace that pays the eager beaver who works all day long the same wages as the grinning drunk who shows up at ten till five…A grace that hikes up the robe and runs breakneck toward the prodigal reeking of sin and wraps him up and decides to throw a party no ifs, ands, or buts…This grace is indiscriminate compassion. It works without asking anything of us…Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might to try to find something or someone it cannot cover. Grace is enough…Jesus is enough.

The rise and fall of Teresa Cornelys proves three things: that the wages of sin are high, that you should “just say no” to opera, and that it’s always wise to diversify your investment portfolio.

Yeah, but the difference is I’m Gen Z, pal. We can’t wait to die. Can you say the same?

Feed me pancakes and tell me I’m pretty.

For poets the wages of sin are poverty.

MEN fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children, is increased with tales, so is the other. Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the wages of sin, and passage to another world, is holy and religious; but the fear of it, as a tribute due unto nature, is weak.

I do not understand what I do....It is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me...For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing...I find this law at work: when I want to do good, evil is right there with me...I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin...I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.

The wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.—Romans 6:23.

could of done with some of that years ago. The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

I was relieved that he left, of course, but at the same time I thought what a thing of sin poverty was, that there could be nothing more sinful than forcing a small child to lie. The wages of that sin were poverty, a wage that one could not endure, leading one to sin again, and as long as one could not pull oneself out of poverty, the cycle would repeat until death.

No. No. You don’t get to talk. When you talk, chaos fucking follows and I forget who I am. You make me forget that I prefer being alone. You make me forget that nothing good comes from letting somebody in.

As you sow, so shall you reap has a neat ring to it but you are making a grievous mistake if you put your faith in that kind of cheap sentiment. There are no just deserts. The wages of sin are not necessarily hell and the path of goodness is often lined with treachery for the world is predicated upon the principle of randomness.

We are the son, and God is the father. We have incurred a debt against God, and we can’t pay Him back. So in His mercy, He pays our sins for us. The wages of our sin is death, and He died on our behalf, balancing the accounts.

Your magical dick has shown me the error of my ways and healed my heart. Imagine that. Just like in the movies. It’s a holiday

If I could kill you, I would, but, somehow, you would manage to take a piece of me with you.

I came to the conclusion that everybody, and I mean everybody, narcotizes their pain somehow. I don’t care if you think the pain comes from insufficient parenting, frustrated dreams, the human condition, or the wages of Original Sin. Everyone tries to deaden it somehow.

Cathy smiled back ‘Rules were meant to be broken.’ ‘Don’t disagree,’ Oversteegen replied immediately. ‘Indeed they are. Providin’, however, that the one breakin’ the rules is willin’ t’ pay the price for it, and the price gets charged in full. Which you were, Lady Catharine. I saluted you for it then–at the family dinner table that night, in fact. My mother was infinitely more indisposed thereafter; tottered back t’ her bed cursin’ me for an ingrate. My father was none too pleased either. I salute you for it, again. Otherwise, breakin’ rules becomes the province of brats instead of heroes. Fastest way I can think t’ turn serious political affairs int’ a playpen. A civilized society needs a conscience, and conscience can’t be developed without martyrs—real ones—against which a nation can measure its crimes and sins.

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all. We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn: But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind, So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind. We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace, Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place, But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome. With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch, They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch; They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings; So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things. When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace. They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease. But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know." On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life (Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife) Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death." In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all, By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul; But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die." Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more. As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man There are only four things certain since Social Progress began. That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire, And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire; And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins, As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn, The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

It was not enough that the Son of God should come down from the heavens and appear as the Son of Man, for then He would have been only a great teacher and a great example, but not a Redeemer. It was more important for Him to fulfill the purpose of the coming, to redeem man from sin while in the likeness of human flesh. Teachers change men by their lives; Our Blessed Lord would change men by His death. The poison of hate, sensuality, and envy which is in the hearts of men could not be healed simply by wise exhortations and social reforms. The wages of sin is death, and therefore it was to be by death that sin would be atoned for.

How I envy those clerks who go by to their offices in the morning! There's the day's work cut out for them; no question of mood and feeling; they have just to work at something, and when the evening comes, they have earned their wages, and they are free to rest and enjoy themselves. What an insane thing it is to make literature one's only means of support! When the most trivial accident may at any time prove fatal to one's power of work for weeks or months. No, that is the unpardonable sin! To make a trade of an art! I am rightly served for attempting such a brutal folly.

Left alone in the same room, the two of you would tear each other apart.

Constitutional irregularities, is it? Interesting concept — given that Torch hasn't yet adopted a formal constitution." "Yup. He listed that as Irregularity Number One.

They were lethal in private, tearing at each other until they finally came together…like snakes mating

the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

One can repent of a sin and have done with it; but the wages of foolishness is the eternal recalling of it.

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

ROM6.23 For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Here were the real wages of sin. Not hellfire and damnation, but heartbreak.

The wages of sin are the hardest debts on earth to pay, and they are always collected at inconvenient times and unexpected places.

Ah, Iddio non paga il Sabatol (‘God does not pay on a Saturday’)—the wages of men’s sins often linger in their payment, and I myself saw much established wickedness of long-standing prosperity.

Humans have the ability to rewrite history. Within a few decades it is not even questioned. Stories of the past become as real as the world you walk through today. Wars are waged over false history. Sins are denied. All for mankind to move forward and feel comfortable about its past. Your true history is written in the stars. Look up, breathe in, and be humbled by the ones who came before you. The ones who have suffered, who have endured, who have overcome. Their blood is alive in you. Their spirits roam freely in the heavens above.

I am not going to kill sin by killing the sinners; I am not going to wage war against evildoers and infidels. I shall preach love, and I shall love; I shall preach concord, and shall practice brotherly love toward everyone in the world.

Here’s a hand to the boy who has courage To do what he knows to be right; When he falls in the way of temptation, He has a hard battle to fight. Who strives against self and his comrade Will find a most powerful foe. All honor to him if he conquers. A cheer for the boy who says, “No!” There’s many a battle fought daily The world knows nothing about; There’s many a brave little soldier Whose strength puts a legion to rout. And he who fights sin singlehanded Is more of a hero, I say, Than he who leads soldiers to battle And conquers by arms in the fray. Be steadfast, my boy, when you’re tempted, To do what you know to be right. Stand firm by the colors of manhood, And you will o’ercome in the fight. “The right,” be your battle cry ever In waging the warfare of life, And God, who knows who are the heroes, Will give you the strength for the strife.

It is necessary to protect precious silence from all parasitical noise. The noise of our “ego”, which never stops claiming its rights, plunging us into an excessive preoccupation with ourselves. The noise of our memory, which draws us toward the past, that of our recollections or of our sins. The noise of temptations or of acedia, the spirit of gluttony, lust, avarice, anger, sadness, vanity, pride—in short: everything that makes up the spiritual combat that man must wage every day. In order to silence these parasitical noises, in order to consume everything in the sweet flame of the Holy Spirit, silence is the supreme antidote.

I missed you.” The words rattled in Az’s head and in his heart. Could he even believe them? If he’d missed Az so much, why had he waited until he saw Az to contact him? Things might have been much different if Madigan had just picked up a phone instead of being a stubborn asshole. Now, he’d fucking ruined everything.

If they’re caught, they’ll rot.

But if, through seeking happiness, my deeds are wrong, No matter where I turn my steps, The knives of misery will cut me down, The wage and retribution of a sinful life.

Dear Church, we have to wage peace in the name of Jesus Christ for this generation. We have to break the chains of sin and death holding all of us captive.

You like teddy bears, Glasses?” “You like being involuntarily committed?” Soren chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time.

Because I knew, even then I think, that I could love you, but I wasn’t sure I could ever break down your walls enough to get you to love me.

Sometimes the only way out is through’?

Dear friends, I urge you, as foreigners and exiles, to abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul. (1 PETER 2:11)

What will be will be well, for what is is well, To take interest is well, and not to take interest shall be well. The domestic joys, the daily housework or business, the building of houses, are not phantasms, they have weight, form, location, Farms, profits, crops, markets, wages, government, are none of them phantasms, The difference between sin and goodness is no delusion, The earth is not an echo, man and his life and all the things of his life are well-consider'd. You are not thrown to the winds, you gather certainly and safely around yourself, Yourself! yourself! yourself, for ever and ever!

It was far easier to dive into hell when you were the one leading than to follow someone in, which was essentially what Az was asking him to do.  Madigan didn’t like it one bit, but what choice did he have?

The Curse" Cedars and the westward sun. The darkening sky. A man alone Watches beside the fallen wall The evening multitudes of sin Crowd in upon us all. For when the light fails they begin Nocturnal sabotage among The outcast and the loose of tongue, The lax in walk, the murderers: Our twilight universal curse. Children are faultless in the wood, Untouched. If they are later made Scandal and index to their time, It is that twilight brings for bread The faculty of crime. Only the idiot and the dead Stand by, while who were young before Wage insolent and guilty war By night within that ancient house, Immense, black, damned, anonymous.

Sure, I was lost in life and scraping by on minimum wage in one of the most expensive cities in the world, but at least I wasn’t trapped in a cabin with a psychopathic husband or on the run from a serial killer who was obsessed with me.

the sinless, impeccable Christ, at the end of His sojurn among men, suffered death, which no one has to undergo except sinners; for death is the wages of sin. There is only one explanation of the death of the incarnate Son of God - it is substitutive, or vicarious, just like His life under the Law. Jesus died the death which sinners had deserved to die, and by His redeeming love, God purposes to regard the death of His Son as the death which He would have to inflict upon every sinner for breaking the Law.

Andy said, “Yonder goes a man who hates the sin, but he’s willin’ enough to take its wages.” Shanty replied, “I’m glad I won’t be wearin’ his shoes when he walks up to the Golden Gates.” “He’s wearin’ better shoes than me and you.” “I’d rather be barefooted.

Romans 7:21—25: So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.

You shall not oppress a hired worker who is poor and needy, whether he is one of your brothers or one of the sojourners who are in your land within your towns. You shall give him his wages on the same day, before the sun sets (for he is poor and counts on it), lest he cry against you to the LORD, and you be guilty of sin.

Ibn al-Qayyim has a profound statement in his book Al-Fawaid. Referring to the effect of negative and sinful thoughts, he said: “You should repulse a thought. If you do not do so, it will develop into a desire. You should therefore wage war against it. If you do not do so, it will become a resolution and firm intention. If you do not repulse this, it will develop into a deed. If you do not make up for it by doing the opposite [the opposite of that evil deed], it will become a habit. It will then be very difficult for you to give it up”. Another similar quote: “You should know the initial stage of every knowledge that is within your choice is your thoughts and notions. These thoughts and notions lead you into fantasies. These fantasies lead towards the will and desire to carry out [those fantasies]. These wills and desires demand the act should be committed. Repeatedly committing these acts causes them to become a habit. So the goodness of these stages lies in the goodness of thoughts and notions, and the wickedness of these thoughts lies in the wickedness of thoughts and notions”. May Allah be pleased with him! He offers a deep insight into something so subtle. We should all memorise these words and use it whenever we feel unable to control the tsunami of negative thoughts that overtake our minds.

Every day I am getting to know people, at any rate their circumstances, and sometimes one is able to see through their stories into themselves-- and at the same time one thing continues to impress me: here I meet the people as they are, far from the masquerade of "the Christian world"; people with passions, criminal types, small people with small aims, small wages and small sins-- all in all they are people who feel homeless in both senses, and who begin to thaw when one speaks to them with kindness-- real people; I can only say that I have gained the impression that it is just these people who are much more under grace than under wrath, and that it is the Christian world which is more under wrath than grace.

CHAPTER THREE SIN USHERS MAN TO DEATH   But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. -Romans 6:22-23   As Lust got older, Grandpa Earth would yield his treasures to her; everything precious that he stored, he would render to his firstborn grandchild.  Lust became very wealthy incomparable to every other living being including her dad.  She employed many of her siblings, and advised them of how to make great success as her employees.  Despite her favour with her granddad, she did not receive the same preferential treatment from Grandma Sun.

I could kill you, you know,” Az murmured as he teased the knife’s blade up to the spot where Madi’s shoulder met his neck. “Slit your throat. Puncture your kidney. Stab you through the heart.” “If you want me dead, then do it and get it over with,” Madi growled. Az pressed his erection to the dark furrow of Madi’s ass, letting him feel how hard he was. “If I could kill you, I would, but, somehow, you would manage to take a piece of me with you.

Is it acceptable to wage war in order to bring peace; to murder a bad king in order to replace him with a good one; to oppress in order to liberate; to damn ourselves in the cause of our redemption? Can an objectively bad act be subjectively good; and if so, can there be any objectivity in morality? But if we withdraw our hand and, fearing to transgress, abstain from action and thereby suffer the wrong to be perpetuated, is that not also a misdeed--worse, arguably, since compounded with the sins of prevarication and cowardice?

If government is truly limited to being small and nearly irrelevant, there will be no incentive to “own” government. For this change to occur, the following will be required: a philosophical rejection of government waging war without consent, running people’s lives, and violating social or economic liberty; nullification of laws by public pressure or by state action; legalization of private alternatives to all government programs; prohibition of fraudulent money, private and government; peaceful civil disobedience; acceptance of responsibility to care for oneself and one’s family instead of relying on government or private theft; refusal to participate in government crimes through the military and tax system with full realization of the risks of practicing civil disobedience since government will not go away quietly; jury nullification of bad laws, especially with regard to taxes, drugs, and overregulation of social and voluntary activities; and acceptance that, while sins and vices may be a negative, they aren’t in themselves crimes and are not to be restricted by the state.

Prayer to an Unseen Friend My special friend, thank you for listening to me. You know how hard I am trying to fulfill your faith in me. Thank You, also for the place in which I dwell. Let neither work nor play, no matter how satisfying or glorious, ever separate me for long from my precious family. Teach me how to play the game of life with fairness, courage, fortitude and confidence. Provide me with a few friends who understand me and yet remain my friends. Allow me a forgiving heart and a mind unafraid to travel though the trail may not be marked. Give me a sense of humor and a little leisure with nothing to do. Help me to strive for the highest legitimate reward of merit, ambition and opportunity, and yet never allow me to forget to extend a kindly, helping hand to others who need encouragement and assistance. Provide me with the strength to encounter whatever is to come, that I be brave in peril, constant in tribulation, temperate in anger and always prepared for any change of fortune. Enable me to give a smile instead of a frown, a kindly word instead of harshness and bitterness. Make me sympathetic to the grief of others, realizing that there are hidden woes in every life, no matter how exalted. Keep me forever serene in every activity of life, neither unduly boastful nor given to the more serious sin of self-depreciation. In sorrow, may my soul be uplifted, by the thought that if there were no shadow, there would be no sunshine. In failure, preserve my faith. In success, keep me humble. Steady me to do the full share of my work, and more, as well as I can, and when that is done, stop me, pay me what wages Thou wilt, and permit me to say, from a loving heart... A grateful Amen

It is interesting, really: The Old Testament fits far more easily with Christian nationalism but is so problematic to defend that they often retreat from it when pressed. For example, you might have noticed in Leviticus that the wording for the verse condemning homosexuality is almost identical to those condemning cursing or attacking one's parents and adultery. The wages of those sins are death, and the sinner is held responsible for that outcome. But a significant number of Christians commit these sins, including many clergy members (at least, it would seem, when it comes to adultery), so it is very difficult to hide the hypocrisy inherent in strongly enforcing one rule while taking a relatively understanding stance on the others. In some cases, the rules are deemed historical artifacts to sidestep troublesome challenges. The Bible is the literal Word of God… but Christians see no problem in wearing clothing woven of two materials, wearing gold, pearls, and expensive clothing, cutting their hair and beards, and getting tattoos. Those commands are deemed no longer relevant, while, inexplicably, other very similar proscriptions are still thought to apply to modern life.

I came to realize that this was about more than not offering up what some of his opponents craved—the picture of the angry black man, or the lectures on race that fuel a sense of grievance among white voters. Obama also didn’t want to offer up gauzy words to make well-meaning white people feel better. The fact that he was a black president wasn’t going to bring life back to an unarmed black kid who was shot, or alter structural inequities in housing, education, and incarceration in our states and cities. It wasn’t going to change the investment of powerful interests in a system that sought to deny voting rights, or to cast people on food stamps working minimum wage jobs as “takers,” incapable of making it on their own. The “last person who ever thought that Barack Obama’s election was going to bring racial reconciliation and some “end of race” in America was Barack Obama. That was a white person’s concept imposed upon his campaign. I know because I was once one of them, taking delight in writing words about American progress, concluding in the applause line “And that is why I can stand before you as president of the United States.” But he couldn’t offer up absolution for America’s racial sins, or transform American society in four or eight years.

We lessen the sin of the world by joining the Lamb of God in bearing sin and pardoning sinners. But as the church as become a powerful institution, a consort with kings and queens, a confidante of presidents and prime ministers, our dispensing of grace has become distorted. We show grace to the institutions of systematic sin while condemning the individual sinner. It should be the other way around. It was never the “rank and file” sinners who gnashed their teeth at Jesus, but those for whom the present arrangement of systematic sin was advantageous. Jesus condemned the systematic sin that preserved the status quo for the Herodians and the Sadducees, but showed compassion to publicans and prostitutes. This is grace. But the church, courting the favor of the powerful, has forgotten this kind of grace. We coddle the mighty whose ire we fear and condemn the sin of the weak who pose no threat. We enthusiastically endorse the systems of greed that run Wall Street while condemning personal greed in the life of the individual working for the minimum wage. We will gladly preach a sermon against the sin of personal greed, but we dare not offer a prophetic critique of the golden calf of unfettered capitalism. Jesus and Saint Francis and Dorothy Day did the opposite. They shamed the principalities and powers, but offered pardon to the people. This is the grace of God the church is to embody.

You missed me? How can you even say that with a straight face? You said we were better apart. You said you thought I set you up. Now, here you are, telling me that, while I’ve been feeling like somebody scooped out a bit of my insides, you’ve been fucking vacationing.” Madi’s expression softened into something that was much too close to pity for Az’s taste. “Az—” Madi tried again, but Az wasn’t having it. It was like something had broken inside of him, and he just couldn’t stop speaking. “No. No. You don’t get to talk. When you talk, chaos fucking follows and I forget who I am. You make me forget that I prefer being alone. You make me forget that nothing good comes from letting somebody in.” Az wanted to punch him or stab him, wanted to do anything that would make Madi look on the outside the way Az felt on the inside. “You missed me,” he spat again. “Fuck you.

I could make you beg,” Madi said casually, sliding his hand inside Az’s pants. He teased over the flared head and rubbed his thumb along Az’s slit, gathering the fluid there and working it just over the crown of Az’s cock until Az bucked desperately into his grip. Az rested his head on Madi’s shoulder so he could speak directly into his ear. “Is that what you need, motek? My submission?” He couldn’t stop the words falling from his lips. Madi didn’t speak, but his hand constricted around Az’s throbbing hard-on. “Does the thought of my begging for your cock turn you on? Is that what you need to cease this ridiculous ground rule?” Madi’s other hand trailed upward, twisting Az’s nipple until he hissed at the pleasure-pain that sent shocks along his spine. “Is it not enough I let you fuck me when nobody else can or that I surrender my flesh to your blade? Do you need the words now, too? If I beg, will you fuck me right here? Hmm? What if I call your bluff?

Indeed, even if you make God your goal, all the works you perform for his sake will be dead, and you will only spoil those works which are genuinely good. Not only will you spoil your good works, but you will also commit sins, for you will be behaving like a gardener who is supposed to plant a garden but who pulls out all the trees instead and then demands his wages. That is how you will spoil your good works. And so, if you wish to live and wish your works to live too, then you must be dead to all things and be reduced to nothing. It is a property of creatures to make one thing from another, but it is a property of God to make something from nothing. And so if God is to make something of you or in you, then you must first yourself become nothingness. Enter your own inner ground therefore and act from there, and all your works shall be living works. That is why ' the wise man' says that 'the just person lives in eternity' since it is because they are just that such a person acts, and all their works are living works.

Preparation - Poem by Malay Roy Choudhury Who claims I'm ruined? Because I'm without fangs and claws? Are they necessary? How do you forget the knife plunged in abdomen up to the hilt? Green cardamom leaves for the buck, art of hatred and anger and of war, gagged and tied Santhal women, pink of lungs shattered by a restless dagger? Pride of sword pulled back from heart? I don't have songs or music. Only shrieks, when mouth is opened wordless odour of the jungle; corner of kin & sin-sanyas; Didn't pray for a tongue to take back the groans power to gnash and bear it. Fearless gunpowder bleats: stupidity is the sole faith-maimed generosity- I leap on the gambling table, knife in my teeth Encircle me rush in from tea and coffee plateaux in your gumboots of pleasant wages The way Jarasandha's genital is bisected and diamond glow Skill of beating up is the only wisdom in misery I play the burgler's stick like a flute brittle affection of thev wax-skin apple She-ants undress their wings before copulating I thump my thighs with alternate shrieks: VACATE THE UNIVERSE get out you omnicompetent conchshell in scratching monkeyhand lotus and mace and discuss-blade Let there be salt-rebellion of your own saline sweat along the gunpowder let the flint run towards explosion Marketeers of words daubed in darkness in the midnight filled with young dog's grief in the sicknoon of a grasshopper sunk in insecticide I reappear to exhibit the charm of the stiletto. (Translation of Bengali poem 'Prostuti')

Although nobody in the grace movement is saying grace is a license to sin (nor have they ever), it’s often assumed that, since we don’t emphasize the Law and push it on people like our accusers think we should, we must be endorsing sin and telling people it’s okay to do whatever they want. In truth, we avoid pushing the Law because we believe what scripture says: that the Law increases sin (Romans 5:20), sin gets its strength from the Law (1 Cor. 15:56), the Law is the ministry of death (2 Cor. 3:6), the Law isn’t based on faith (Gal. 3:12), and nobody can be made right with God through keeping the Law (Gal. 2:20). In fact, though many preachers will tell us today that it’s sin that separates us from God, and we need to go back to His holy Law to be reconciled, scripture actually teaches the opposite. It says that the Law is what separates people from Christ and causes them to fall from grace (Gal. 5:4). Our choice to not enforce those Laws is not because we want to see people sin, but because we want them to live free from sin. Scripture is very clear that those Laws are the very thing causing people to sin. While we receive many accusations that our grace-emphasized message is a “license to sin,” if you look at the church today, and all throughout its entire history, sin and the blatant abuse of people has always been done in the name of the Law, not in the name of grace. Nobody has ever killed anyone in the name of God’s grace, and yet countless crusades and wars have been waged in the name of upholding and enforcing those Laws. Some today are in Uganda using the law as a license to kill homosexuals.[27] Why do we ignore what scripture so clearly says about the law? “The letter kills…

The American Anti-Slavery Society, on the other hand, said the war was “waged solely for the detestable and horrible purpose of extending and perpetuating American slavery throughout the vast territory of Mexico.” A twenty-seven-year-old Boston poet and abolitionist, James Russell Lowell, began writing satirical poems in the Boston Courier (they were later collected as the Biglow Papers). In them, a New England farmer, Hosea Biglow, spoke, in his own dialect, on the war: Ez fer war, I call it murder,—     There you hev it plain an’ flat; I don’t want to go no furder     Than my Testyment fer that. . . . They may talk o’ Freedom’s airy     Tell they’er pupple in the face,— It’s a grand gret cemetary     Fer the barthrights of our race; They jest want this Californy     So’s to lug new slave-states in To abuse ye, an’ to scorn ye,     An’ to plunder ye like sin. The war had barely begun, the summer of 1846, when a writer, Henry David Thoreau, who lived in Concord, Massachusetts, refused to pay his Massachusetts poll tax, denouncing the Mexican war. He was put in jail and spent one night there. His friends, without his consent, paid his tax, and he was released. Two years later, he gave a lecture, “Resistance to Civil Government,” which was then printed as an essay, “Civil Disobedience”: It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. . . . Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice. A common and natural result of an undue respect for law is, that you may see a file of soldiers . . . marching in admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against their wills, ay, against their common sense and consciences, which makes it very steep marching indeed, and produces a palpitation of the heart.

Year after year, they are joined by a new age group from Germany’s youth, totally educated in accordance with National Socialist principles, forged together by the ideas of our Volksgemeinschaft, and willing to move against anyone who should dare to sin against our fight for freedom. And just as in the time of the party’s struggle for power, our female party comrades, our German women and girls, were the most reliable supports of the movement, so now again the multitude of our women and girls form the strongest element in the struggle for the preservation of our Volk. After all, thank God, not only the Jews in London and New York but also those in Moscow made clear what fate might be in store for the German Volk. We are determined to be no less clear in our answer. This fight will not end with the planned annihilation of the Aryan but with the extermination of the Jew in Europe. Beyond this, thanks to this fight, our movement’s world of thought will become the common heritage of all people, even of our enemies. State after state will be forced, in the course of its fight against us, to apply National Socialist theories in waging this war that was provoked by them. And in so doing, it will become aware of the curse that the criminal work of Jewry has laid over all people, especially through this war. As our enemies thought in 1923 that the National Socialist Party was defeated for good and that I was finished with in the eyes of the German Volk because of my trial, so they actually helped National Socialist ideology to spread like wildfire through the entire German Volk and convey the essence of Jewry to so many million men, as we ourselves would never have been able to do under normal circumstances. In the same manner international Jewry, which instigated this new war, will find out that nation after nation engrosses itself more and more in this question to become finally aware of the great danger presented by this international problem. Above all, this war proves the irrefutable identity of plutocracy and Bolshevism, and the common ambition of all Jews to exploit nations and make them the slaves of their international guild of criminals. The same alliance we once faced as our common enemies in Germany, an alliance between the stock exchange in Frankfurt and the “Red Flag” in Berlin, now again exists between the Jewish banking houses in New York, the Jewishplutocratic class of leaders in London, and the Jews in the Kremlin in Moscow. Just as the German Volk successfully fought the Jewish enemy at home as a consequence of this realization and is now about to finish it off for good, the other nations will increasingly find themselves again in the course of this war. Together, they will make a stand against that race that is seeking to destroy all of them. Proclamation for the 23th anniversary of the N.S.D.A.P. (read by Hermann Esser) Fuhrer Headquarters, February 24, 1943

I have often wondered if some of the misfortunes in our lives are payment for the wages of our sins while we are still here on earth.

There is no strength like being saved from the wages of sins.

Christians are called to wage war against this enemy, knowing that there are only two options: “Be killing sin or it will be killing you.”25

The truest love stories never really end, do they? If you’re lucky, they simply continue into eternity.

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun, Nor the furious winter’s rages; Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone and ta’en thy wages.

The one woman I shouldn’t have has become the one woman I can’t live without.

My empire is corrupt, and there are enemies at the gate. Fuck that. My gate has been breached, my territory invaded. My woman seized. And now, I will go to war.

Aislinn Granville is everything to me. Every. Fucking. Thing.

All my thoughts are of Aislinn Granville. She is the air I breathe. The beat of my heart. The light to my dark. The goddess of my dreams.

I’m here with you, exactly where I want to be. Exactly where I belong.

Right now, there is no distinction between need and want, necessity and luxury. Aislinn Granville is both. And I want, need, must-fucking-have her.

Aislinn Granville is my gift from a god I stopped believing in years ago. An angel bestowed to a devil. I’ll take her. I’ll treasure her. I’ll live for her. I’ll die for her. And I’ll commit all seven sins – countless times, with zero regrets – to keep her.

I’m an unguarded fortress. My gates are open, my weapons surrendered. All for this woman. For my spitfire with the power to incinerate me. And maybe she will, but not until I set her on fire.

Even the darkness in you is beautiful to me, Damon. You are my dark prince, my vengeful devil, my corrupt savior. And when you look at me, you only need to know one thing.” … “What?” His one question is a gritty rasp. “I am yours, Damon King. All yours.

You make me everything.

I don’t know what it’s like not to love you, princess.

When it comes to salvation, there are no wages. In fact, “the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6: 23). So if we want to talk about getting what we deserve, we’re in for a rough ride. Salvation is a gift, not a reward (Rom. 4: 4–5). Is election fair? Hardly. But who wants fairness in this matter? After all, if God were to give everybody what is deserved, nobody would be saved. He could leave every one of us in our spiritual death and the condemnation that we have chosen for ourselves.

It's stupid, isn't it? They're doing everything they think they're supposed to do, but we're happy and they're not. So what we're doing has to be a sin. Instead of looking inward, they'd rather wage a war.

Well, that brings us to the point: There is only one way to protect ourselves from the deadly diseases that stalk the human family. It is abstinence before marriage, then marriage and mutual fidelity for life to an uninfected partner. Anything less is foolhardy and potentially suicidal. Don't let anyone tell you differently. There is no such thing as "safe sex," just as there is no "safe sin." For thousands of years, people have been trying to find ways to disobey the laws of God without suffering the consequences. It can't be done. Scripture tells us that the wages of sin is death, and we'd better believe it!

But even if that were true, the key phrase “begin not hostilities” doesn’t necessarily mean what many Westerners assume or hope it means. The command to fight until “there prevail justice and faith in Allah” suggests there is an aspect to the warfare that is not purely defensive: Muslims must continue the war until Allah’s law prevails over the world, which implies a conflict without end. The passage concludes, “And fight them until persecution is no more, and religion is for Allah” (2:193). Ibn Ishaq explains that this means that Muslims must fight against unbelievers “until God alone is worshipped.”11 Ibn Kathir also contends that the verse instructs Muslims to fight “so that the religion of Allah becomes dominant above all other religions.”12 Bulandshahri puts it in starker terms: “The worst of sins are Infidelity (Kufr) and Polytheism (shirk) which constitute rebellion against Allah, The Creator. To eradicate these, Muslims are required to wage war until there exists none of it in the world, and the only religion is that of Allah.”13 That bears repeating. “The worst of sins are Infidelity (Kufr) and Polytheism (shirk) which constitute rebellion against Allah, The Creator. To eradicate these, Muslims are required to wage war until there exists none of it in the world, and the only religion is that of Allah.” That’s an open-ended declaration of war against every non-Muslim, in all times and in all places.

This is a Christian country, my dear brother, and the wages of sin are supposed to be death, not eight bob of the taxpayers’ money.