Why should the rich fare differently from other people with respect to the world to come?
Those who ask such a question do not perceive that the difficulty comes precisely because they shall fare like other people, whereas they want to fare as rich people.
— George MacDonald, Knowing the Heart of God, p. 55
What would it take for us to remember our worth? How good we are, and how complete and loving and lovable. men shouldn’t have to bear the burden of our remembrance. It’s not their function to remind us we are goddesses. It’s our function to remember it and then reveal it to the world. When we remember, they will too. The light will be dazzling.
— Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth, p. 136
Book readers can go places without phoning a travel agent or starting the car. You can meet fascinating people in your own living room, people you would never know any other way. New ideas and concepts roll out of the pages of books into your own life, not because you have enrolled in school, but because you are reading. You can go on adventures you would never dare plan. Add to this the depth of feeling and beauty that comes from the right words in the right places — aah, who wouldn’t want to be a reader! Reading enables us to see the world as richly colored rather than black and white.
— Gladys Hunt, Honey for a Woman’s Heart, p. 14
There’s a lot of talk today about whether a woman can have it all. The problem isn’t having it all but receiving it all, giving ourselves permission to have a full and passionate life when our cultural conditioning has denied us that for centuries. The biggest limit to our having is our small reach, our shy embrace. As long as it’s considered unfeminine to have a full appetite — which it is, because it is recognized that whever we allow ourselves to truly desire we usually get — then we will not sit down at life’s banquet but only at its diner. This is ridiculous, and it holds back the entire world for women to live at half-measure. It’s also an insult to men to suggest that they can’t dance with goddesses, as though a woman at full power might step on their toes.
— Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth, p. 125
The duty of Christians toward their fellow men and women is to let their light shine, not to force on them their interpretations of God’s designs.
— George MacDonald, Knowing the Heart of God, p. 43
When we fail to set boundaries and hold people accountable, we feel used and mistreated. This is why we sometimes attack who they are, which is far more hurtful than addressing a behavior or a choice. For our own sake, we need to understand that it’s dangerous to our relationships and our well-being to get mired in shame and blame, or to be full of self-righteous anger. It’s also impossible to practice compassion from a place of resentment. If we’re going to practice acceptance and compassion, we need boundaries and accountability.
— Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 19
Care is the operative word — infinite, tender care. This is what we doubt and also what we dream of. It is God’s nature to care for us, and it is perhaps human nature to doubt that care. We know all too well the human failings that come to bear when we promise care. We may, as parents, be too tired or too stressed to give our best care. We tend to project these same attributes onto God. We tend to worry that God is tired and God is stressed and that somehow looking out for us is something that has somehow slipped between the cracks.
But God is not tired. God is not stressed. God is the infinite caregiver. Our well-being is God’s priority. We are urged to trust this, to become “as little children.” We are asked to be wholehearted, to go back to a time before we were cynical and doubtful. God wants us to have faith. “Suffer the little children to come unto me.” We are the little children. How do we become the children that we are?
— Julia Cameron, Faith and Will, p. 97
No man can convince a woman she’s wonderful, but if she already believes she is, his agreement can resonate and bring her joy.
— Marianne Williamson, A Woman’s Worth, p. 84
“Do you think it very bad of a man not to believe in God?”
“That depends on the sort of God he imagines that he either does or does not believe in. Most people have totally wrong conceptions of God. A thousand times would I rather see a man not believe in God at all than believe in an evil god that could cause suffering and misery as if he were a devil. But if a man had the same notion of God that I have — a God who is even now doing his best to take all men and women and beasts out of the misery in which they find themselves — and did not at least desire that there might be such a God, then I confess I would have difficulty in understanding how he could be good. When one looks at the gods that have been offered through the years who are not worth believing in, it might be an act of virtue not to believe in them.”…
“I believe that, no matter how uninteresting he may say the question of a God is to him, the God of patience is taking care of him, and the time must come when something will make him want to know whether there be a God and whether he can get near to him. I should say, ‘He is in God’s school; don’t be troubled about him, as if God might overlook and forget him. He will see to all that concerns him. He has made him, and he loves him, and he is doing and will do his very best for him.”
— George MacDonald, Knowing the Heart of God, p. 23-24
It’s only been the last few years that I’ve learned that playing down the exciting stuff doesn’t take the pain away when it doesn’t happen. It does, however, minimize the joy when it does happen. It also creates a lot of isolation. Once you’ve diminished the importance of something, your friends are not likely to call and say, “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. I know you were excited about it.”
Now when someone asks me about a potential opportunity that I’m excited about, I’m more likely to practice courage and say, “I’m so excited about the possibility. I’m trying to stay realistic, but I really hope it happens.” When things haven’t panned out, it’s been comforting to be able to call a supportive friend and say, “Remember that event I told you about? It’s not going to happen, and I’m so bummed.”
— Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection, p. 18