25 And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?'26 And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.'27 And the Lord did not ask him again.
My belief is that, morally, God and Satan are vaguely on the same page. According to the common understanding of Satan's origins, holiness must be in his blood: but a corrupted formula. The vital difference is that God is willing to offer grace for our sins; he delights in grace. God is the one and only holy and just punisher of sin, yes, but that is partly so because punishment for the sake of punishment is not something he loves. Whereas Satan, as the accuser, and as it is written, actually seeks God's permission to punish; he, being a seasoned legalist, delights in finding wrongs and will defy his own morality just to expose immorality. This is why both the anti-religious soul and the violently religious soul are, whether consciously or unconsciously, and sadly enough, glorifying their biggest hater: Satan is not only a lawless lover of punishing lawlessness, but also the greatest theologian of us all. He loves wickedness, but only because he loves punishing wickedness.
Well, I never been to much school, you understand, but it seems to me that you're assuming something you shouldn't assume... that God sees the world like you do; one thing at a time, from just one spot. Seems to me that he's supposed to be everywhere, know everything. ...Think about that; he knows what you're feeling, how you're hurting. Feels my pain, your pain like it was his own. Hell son, the question isn't how God could care about just one person; question is, how could he not?
THE FOUR HEAVENLY FOUNTAINSLaugh, I tell youAnd you will turn backThe hands of time.Smile, I tell youAnd you will reflectThe face of the divine.Sing, I tell youAnd all the angels will sing with you!Cry, I tell youAnd the reflections found in your pool of tears -Will remind you of the lessons of today and yesterdayTo guide you through the fears of tomorrow.
Her eyes were of different colors, the left as brown as autumn, the right as gray as Atlantic wind. Both seemed alive with questions that would never be voiced, as if no words yet existed with which to frame them. She was nineteen years old, or thereabouts; her exact age was unknown. Her face was as fresh as an apple and as delicate as blossom, but a marked depression in the bones beneath her left eye gave her features a disturbing asymmetry. Her mouth never curved into a smile. God, it seemed, had withheld that possibility, as surely as from a blind man the power of sight. He had withheld much else. Amparo was touched—by genius, by madness, by the Devil, or by a conspiracy of all these and more. She took no sacraments and appeared incapable of prayer. She had a horror of clocks and mirrors. By her own account she spoke with Angels and could hear the thoughts of animals and trees. She was passionately kind to all living things. She was a beam of starlight trapped in flesh and awaiting only the moment when it would continue on its journey into forever.” (p.33)
I remembered Robyn telling me the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and how they'd survived: when the King chucked them in the furnace and an angel or someone went in with them. The furnace blazed all around them but they didn't burn.And it did calm me. I don't know if it was Robyn or an angel or even God himself was in the boot, but I was starting to suspect that whenever I wanted God, he was there. Only not necessarily in the form I wanted, or doing what I wanted...In the pitch of the black boot I clung to the image of a fiery furnace, and it wasn't the furnace or Hell either.
Strange are the ways of God. At times He showers His gifts when we least expect them. Treat each day as an important one; you never know He may have decided to send you a gift through a small child looking for help or an unknown stranger seeking directions to a place or a person unable to pay his coffee bill because his pocket has been picked or a lady on the next table who absent mindedly leaves her purse in the café. Anyone of them could be the carrier of God’s gifts. Be alert His miracles can come up any time, in any form and through anyone. Your life may be about to change, His Angel is on the way so don’t be caught napping. Don’t treat today or any day as just another day.
Is it love to worship a saint in heaven, whom you dare not touch, who hovers above you like a cloud, which floats away from you even as you gaze? To love is to feel one being in the world at one with us, our equal in sin as well as in virtue. To love, for us men, is to clasp one woman with our arms, feeling that she lives and breathes just as we do, suffers as we do, thinks with us, loves with us, and, above all, sins with us. Your mock saint who stands in a niche is not a woman if she have not suffered, still less a woman if she have not sinned. Fall at the feet of your idol an you wish, but drag her down to your level after that- the only level she should ever reach, that of your heart.
She was completely alone in the world. There was no one at all for her. No one in the world who cared whether she lived or died. Sometimes the horror of that thought threatened to overwhelm her and plunge her down into a bottomless darkness from which there would be no return. If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?
Authors can write stories without people assuming that they are autobiographies, but songwriters and poets are often considered to be the characters in their works. I like Michelangelo's vision, 'I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
There is no saint here. I have attained wisdom from life's experiences... the positive, the negative, the destructive, the nourishing. I have been medicine for some and poison for others. I've learned a lot about heaven from aligning with angels and I have learned a lot about hell from acting like a devil. I offer my scars... what you call "wisdom"... Seeds of knowledge that have been watered by tears and flowers of hope that are nourished by love... It's a garden of experience made beautiful by self acceptance... The insight I have gathered from my comfort of living within both the light and the shadow.
Hey, he's not using a holster," I said, glancing at Alex's on the dresser. He laughed out loud. "Yeah, I guess he must want something shooting off. It'd be so great if these things were true to life - the next scene would show him at hospital like, clutching himself in agony."'Angel - L.A.Weatherly
He shook his head in exasperation. “Are you sure you’re not a Succubus? You seem really obsessed with the sin of lust.”“It’s a good sin. I like gluttony an awful lot, too. Sloth has its moments, but I just don’t understand acedia at all. I mean, what the f**k is that anyway? Oh, and greed is good, to quote Gordon Gekko. Anger, envy and pride,” I ticked them off on my fingers. “I don’t often have much use for them. It’s a shortcoming that I’m hoping to correct in the next millennium or two. I’m not very old; I can’t be expected to have mastered them all yet.”“I think you’ve worked too hard on some of those,” he said dryly. “Maybe you should switch over to virtues instead. Give yourself a much needed break.”Virtues? Yeah, right.“Virtues are too difficult,” I told him, shaking my head. “Look how old you are and you’ve hardly made a dent in them. I’ll admit, you seem to have zeal nailed, as well as faith and temperance. Self control? I’ve got my doubts based on your recent actions. I’m not seeing the kindness, love or generosity, either. That humility thing seems to be pretty far beyond your reach, too. Really, really far. I’m sorry to tell you this, but from what I can see, the sin of pride is a major component of your character. Dude, you’re f**king old. You should have these things pretty well ticked off your shopping list by now. I’m seriously disappointed. Seriously.
Each of those churches shows certain books, which they call revelation, or the Word of God. The Jews say that their Word of God was given by God to Moses face to face; the Christians say, that their Word of God came by divine inspiration; and the Turks say, that their Word of God (the Koran) was brought by an angel from heaven. Each of those churches accuses the other of unbelief; and, for my own part, I disbelieve them all.
If I could remove one thing from the world and replace it with something else, I would erase politics and put art in its place. That way, art teachers would rule the world. And since art is the most supreme form of love, beautiful colors and imagery would weave bridges for peace wherever there are walls. Artists, who are naturally heart-driven, would decorate the world with their love, and in that love — poverty, hunger, lines of division, and wars would vanish from the earth forever. Children of the earth would then be free to play, imagine, create, build and grow without bloodshed, terror and fear.
There are very few things that live in both this world and the world of dreams. Most are gods, angels and demons. The Stone you hold was made by Vlad Valkire the son of an angel and a demon. By the divine blood that ran in his veins, Valkire could see the light and hear the song of creation -- if only as glimmerings and whispers. "Over time, he became aware of the light and the music and as he grew so did his understanding of it. At the age of twenty two, he began his greatest labor -- the making of the Wyrd Stones. In them he captured the light and song of creation and by them some of the powers of gods, angels and demons fell into the hands of elves and men. A sorcerer who knows its secret may -- like a god, angel, or demon -- stand with one foot in this world and another within the world of dreams. "Your Stone is a gateway into the world of dreams, Luthiel. When you sing, it opens and you are, in part, taken there. Others who hold a Wyrd Stone like yours may know when someone crosses into dream. When you sang, I could hear you quite clearly.
Doyle: "What is it now, then?"Cordelia: "Isn't java supposed to be a coffee?"Doyle: "Ready to abandon the the Web project?"Cordelia: "No way. We have a chance here to make contact with the millions of people out there who are glued to their computers."Doyle: "All those millions, shunning human contact. I'll never understand it. Call me old-fashioned, if you like, but I want to interface with a face, not a hunk of plastic and glass."Cordelia: "Climb out of the Dark Ages, Munchkin man."Doyle: "It's leprechaun, and either way, I don't appreciate the insult.
She looked exactly like an angel. I know my jaw dropped a little, and I just stood there looking at her for what seemed like a long time, shocked into silence, until I suddenly remembered that I had a line I had to deliver. I took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. "You're beautiful," I finally said to her, and I think everyone in the whole auditorium, from the blue-haired ladies in the front to my friends in the back row, knew that I actually meant it. I'd nailed that line for the very first time.
Father is pleased with your progress. You humans are all the same you know. You’re always refusing just to enjoy the moment you’re in when you don’t understand things. You know just because you don’t understand something doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Father gave you all this for a gift. Have fun a little. You are at a royal affair. Maybe you should lighten up.” Really? My life was on hold and an angel was complaining to me that I needed to kick back and relax. Did an angel just tell me to lighten up?
The green-eyed angel came in less than a half hour and fell docile as a lamb into my arms. We kissed and caressed, I met no resistance when I unlaced the strings to free her dress and fill myself in the moist and hot bed nature made between her thighs. We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new.
The black of the ocean waves was the color of the sorrow in my breast, a sorrow that was never far away and always visible.
God himself had sent me away. I was truly now among the damned.
I was once a man, not a great man, not a saintly man, but a good man, and a man nonetheless.
I did not choose to be a monster—a shell of a man—half-human, half-fiend. I am a tiefling. I am what I am.
My life was going exactly where I wanted it to until the Devil showed up.
Iona stared at me for a long time. “You are going to leave me a widow before I have a chance to become a bride.
Then it kissed me—not as a man would kiss a lover, not with tenderness or even passion. This was a kiss that stole the soul of men. Revulsion at this creature’s kiss was instantly replaced by the warmth stealing through my veins, as if my missing blood were being replenished and contrived to heal me. I craved to keep kissing the beast. My entire being awakened to that kiss feeding me ecstasy, feeding me life.
I'll never see Ivy alive again.But she's still everywhere. In every drop of bubbling swamp water. In every leaf hanging from every tree. In every speck of swamp mud. In every blade of grass. In every gift she left behind for me: two sacks of miscellaneous objects, a grass bracelet, her home, her love, and my life.A swamp angel named Ivy lived in my backyard. And now she doesn't.But wherever she is, I know she's watching me.Just like the angel she's always been.
Always – but especially when suffering - surround yourself with those who inspire you to lose yourself more honestly, to love others more thoroughly, to live life more fully, and to trust God more wholly. Huddle with those who care for you and those who are exemplary in their encouragement, patience and understanding of others. Hang out with those who strive to put God and faith at their center. Pray for peers, friends and mentors who will not only encourage you to be your best independent, strong, and vulnerable self all at the same time – but also sincerely humble. Pray that their angel dust will transcend you when even the smallest flecks of their contagious warmth and permeating beauty fall upon you. Then ever pray that you may have the opportunity to likewise ease and nurture others in such authentic ways; thus honing such a charitable, other-oriented nature of your own, – a miraculous healing balm – a buffer of pain if there ever was one. Know this is the most powerful antidote for fear and sorrow; the most effective – and addictive – cure-all known in all of creation; an elixir for that otherwise, elusive kind of happiness – the kind that weathers, endures and remains in all seasons and conditions.
While his body was left behind, his soul soared into the heavens. He did not pause at Celestia’s gates. No, that was not the true Celestial realm. Even as it floated among the skies and hosted its angelic ward, it was nothing more than a city. The place the Hallowed sought was beyond such petty creatures. He did not give it another passing glance as he ascended.
But life is beautiful, Sariel!’ Gabriel said, trying to convince him. ‘Watch the sunrise sometime lying in the scented flowers of the field, or the shooting stars at the end of summer! Read a couple of really exciting books or lose yourself in the unselfconscious smiles of children. Have a swim in a clear mountain lake or take a run among trees clothed in autumn colours. If you can see the good in Earth, your own existence will become the richer for it!’‘That all sounds very well and good, but you haven’t convinced me,’ the deep-voiced angel murmured and Ariel laughed. ‘My friend, Gabriel was very gently trying to suggest that you should fall in love and that will better dispose you to the world!
This time, I sat next to a pixie girl called Takara, who had pinkish hair and wore a bright pink dress to match. She was the first forest-dweller I had seen wearing jewellery: she was wearing a necklace and bracelet of finely worked crystal beads. When she noticed my interest, she removed her bracelet and held it out to me. “Sophiel, I would be so pleased if you would wear this!”I was surprised by this kind and very selfless gesture; after all, I had not been admiring her jewels with any intention of asking her to part with them!“You’re very kind, Takara, but I was merely admiring your handiwork!” I said, trying politely to refuse her gift. “Mitsuko told me that you make your jewellery yourself. You’re very talented, they’re really lovely pieces, but I wouldn’t want to take them away from you. It’s you that makes these jewels really beautiful!
The path’s been set ,The way has been pointed out to me,I need strength to walk, and make the first step,I need the light to see, and wisdom to discern,I need Evil and God, The path’s been set for me to follow,The way has been pointed out to me,I need courage, and hope, Time to unleash the beast, and set the dragon free,Time to rise and defy Death, Time to defeat Satan, and destroy God,Time for war and violence, time to love and kill,Time to tame the demons of the mind,Time to cut the angel’s wingsTime to show your fangs and claws to the Devil,I need courage, I need hope,I need strength to slit the devil's throat Give me Satan, Give me God,Give me death, give me life,The path is been set for me to follow
Look for the inner ANGEL in yourself. Doing good and spreading JOY can be as natural here on Earth as it is in Heaven. Sharing our LOVE is not only easy to do, it is what we are meant to do. May we take the time today to find the inner angel inside ourselves. I hope that we let that angel out to bless the world with our love and always remember that we don't need wings to fly!
Tell me where the swans go in the winterI need to know if the mute ones can sing.Tell me why stars fall from the skyI need to know if it is luck they bring.Tell me why feathers land near youI need to know if you've injured your wing.Now, tell me where you end, my angelFor I no longer know where I begin.
Maybe when we face a tragedy, someone, somewhere is preventing a bigger tragedy from happening.
For eight years I’ve waited for you to realize that. I’ve waited for you to see yourself for who you really are. You’re Lily Marks, a beautiful, extremely clever woman whose capacity for compassion sets you apart from the Nephilim. It’s not your fighting skills or how good of a warrior you are. It’s the fact you look at me and see a man rather than a Fallen.” -Julian
While all the universe and my family are still sleeping, I will walk among the red and blue twinkle-lights of the living room, to sit and gaze upon the pretty white angel atop the tree and say silent prayers, remembering what was good in the world and why I was brought here to remember.
Whatever you are physically, male or female, strong or weak, ill or healthy - all those things matter less than what your heart contains. If you have the soul of a warrior, you are a warrior. Whatever the color, the shape, the design of the shade that conceals it, the flame inside the lamp remains the same. YOU are the flame. That's what I believe.
Now drawing four fingers up the sides of her stomach, my hands create a kind of invisible wave that sounds beneath her skin. Molding her torso every which way as if it were clay for me to experiment, I study the lines of her iridescent form flowing in a rhythmic beauty that fascinates me into this fixation. My finger circles around the rim of her belly button as if to enjoy the sounds that might come from a crystal glass. Her every touch absorbs my ability to discern thought as I become rested in this feeling of absolute ecstasy. Life without her I know would indefinitely destroy me, having already solemnly delivered my spirit to this angel that comes down to be with me.
Anahita mewed contentment as she snuggled even closer to Imamiah. She was enjoying her interactions with Imamiah very much. She could not understand why angels remained as spirit when this flesh was so much more pleasurable.
Sophia took in a deep breath as she prepared to screech up at him angrily like the deep-down angel-bitch she really was. However, as her beautiful violet eyes looked up furiously into the Shepherd’s mesmerizing green eyes, she caught her breath and her body went weak at his masterful handling of her rebellious angel body.
Good parents use the mistakes they did in the past when they were young to advice the children God gave to them to prevent them from repeating those mistakes again. However, bad parents always want to be seen as right and appear "angelic and saintly" as if they never had horrible youth days.
Day in and day out we learn to train and grow as Guardians. We do as we're told and follow the rules. We all work hard. Now it's our turn to watch some demons tremble in fear! It's our turn to watch the hunters become the hunted. Who's ready to see some fighting? Better yet, who wants to see what our great protector is made of?
There is a rule in Heaven that says we cannot tell someone something that might shift the living out of their destiny during their lifetime on earth. People must be led by either their mistakes or by their faith, and this is why they cannot be told certain things ahead of time.
When also I am told that a woman, called the Virgin Mary, said, or gave out, that she was with child without any cohabitation with a man, and that her betrothed husband, Joseph, said that an angel told him so, I have a right to believe them or not: such a circumstance required a much stronger evidence than their bare word for it: but we have not even this; for neither Joseph nor Mary wrote any such matter themselves. It is only reported by others that they said so. It is hearsay upon hearsay, and I do not chose to rest my belief upon such evidence.
He stepped off the pavement like a man jumping off a bridge, as calm as a swimmer with an ocean out below. Lucy had known what he was going to do the instant their eyes met. She'd know what he intended because she would have done the very same thing if she'd had his courage. Nothing was going to break his fall.
I’d like to share with you a parable: the parable of Bob the Angel.A girl was walking down a darkly lit city street late at night. A man jumped out from the shadows and attacked her, suddenly she was suffocating and disoriented as hands clasped around her neck and the force of his attack started to push her down. She tried to yell as she struggled to pull his arms from her neck while she crumpled backwards to the ground, “God . . . help me!” The next thing she remembers—just as the fear consumed her, and right as she disappeared into the misery and despair of helplessness—was a loud crash and an explosion of glass which rained down upon her and her attacker. The assailant’s lifeless body was suspended above her, held from collapsing on her by an unknown force, and then pulled away from hovering over her and dropped onto the pavement beside her. She opened her eyes in the faint shadowy light, to see black matted hair and a long, black beard framing the eyes of a man. The smell of alcohol on his breath would have knocked her out if the adrenaline was not still trilling through her veins. There he stood, God’s angel, off-kilter and drunk, with a broken whiskey bottle in his hand. “You probably shouldn’t be walking through here this late at night,” was all he said as he turned away.“Wait! What’s your name?” she asked, still stunned half sitting up on the ground.All she heard as he walked away was his trailing voice calling, “Bob’s as good as any. . . .” An angel is a messenger, and sometimes we only want letters sent in white envelopes with beautiful gold print, when sometimes a simple “no” on the back of a gum wrapper is what we are offered. Every postcard from heaven does not come with a picture of the sunset there, nor should it. If it is an answer we want, an answer we will get. As far as pretty postcards, there are many others willing to send us that. If not harps and gold-tipped wings, what then is the mark of an angel? An answer which pierces your soul, and which inspires a question that invites you to look outside of yourself and up to God. God is very objective; He wants to make us think, to engage the faculties we have been given, and to learn from the messengers he sends us. He wants us in the ark before the flood; he could come himself—or send a Noah—but most of the time he sends Bob. Bob is in you, Bob is in me, Bob is in the emotionalized, sarcastic, mocking, patronizing, proud or foolish person which points out meaningful things to us in the worst possible moments, or in the worst possible way.
This was the first time I thought of S— that day. Her music was beautiful, her voice was beautiful, her body was beautiful. Even the dirty little pads of her feet were beautiful. I cursed myself then. For once, heaven had sent me Beauty in its most perfected form and I abandoned it. She might not have been a girl after all but an angel: a force to guide me on this hazardous path of life I hurry down. How can life be hazardous if it can only end in death?
Only through forgiving can we understand that there is nothing and no one to forgive. And that we too, if we have hurt someone, have been for them, nothing more than an instrument of Love in the same way they have been for us. In the Oneness there is no separation, no judgment, and everything happens in Divine Perfection.
Here and there and not just in books we catch glimpses of a world of once upon a time and they lived happily ever after, of a world where there is a wizard to give courage and a heart, an angel with a white stone that has written on it our true and secret name, and it is so easy to dismiss it all that it is hardly worth bothering to do. ... But if the world of the fairy tale and our glimpses of it here and there are only a dream, they are one of the most haunting and powerful dreams that the world has ever dreamed...
Insert the biggest, most awkward silence in the history of big awkward silences. I stare at him. I'm suddenly exhausted by all the lies I've told him. He's my friend, and I lie to him every day. He deserves better. I wish I could tell him then, more than anything I've ever wanted. I wish I could stand in front of him and truly be myself and tell him everything. But it's against the rules.
Take this message to your people, you obsequious little worm,” I murmured. “Anyone who lays a hand on Jordan Amador will have to answer to me. Now do me a favor and go to hell.”I removed my sword from his hand and then decapitated him. His severed head tumbled across the floor like a wayward bowling ball. Good riddance.I set my sword aside, found a stool in the corner, and climbed up in front of Jordan. Her handcuffs were attached to a huge meat hook bolted into the ceiling. I lifted her off of it with great care, unsure if she had the strength to stand. As soon as her arms were free, she looped them around my shoulders and pressed her face against my neck. She was trembling, but not crying. I sank to the floor and cradled her in my lap, breathing out the last of my anger now that she was safe. “‘M sorry,” she mumbled in a small voice. “I’m so sorry, Michael.”I snorted. “What the hell do you have to apologize for? You got kidnapped. Pretty sure that’s not your fault.”She shook her head, her words partially muffled as she pressed her face against my shirt. “Should’ve been stronger. I could’ve gotten you killed.”“By Heckle and Jeckle here? Not likely.”A shaky laugh rattled through her. She slid her fingers into the hairs along the nape of my neck and hugged me tighter. I knew from experience she didn’t want me to see her face because she knew she was only seconds away from breaking down. No one would ever accuse Jordan Amador of being a crybaby, not if she could help it. It was a ridiculous notion at best, but I indulged her anyway. “Thank you.”“Just doing my job. But you’re welcome.”I smoothed the sweaty hairs away from her forehead enough to kiss it. She didn’t move away. We stayed there for a while without speaking, just clinging to each other until we felt strong enough to separate.
As Abby finally turned and fled the frigid temperatures of the roof, she realized she still didn’t know if the Fallen were good or evil. Whether they intended to kill the humans or not.All she knew was that, at the tender age of thirteen, Abby Rhodes had just fallen head over heels in love.
Part of her wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be okay. But the rest of her just wanted to throw him to the ground and rip those jeans off him. Funny how she could be so jealous of a pair of pants. They covered the sinfully male body she longed to explore.
There is no record in Scripture that an angel visited John’s cell to explain the meaning of his persecution. This great, godly man who was the designated forerunner to Jesus went through the same confusing experiences as we. It is comforting to know that John responded in a very human way. He sent a secret message to Jesus from his prison cell, asking “Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?” (Matthew 11:3). Have you ever felt like asking that question?
You are funny like a kid and awesome like a princessUnseen like an angel, like the morning sunshine… Kindness like a river and highness like a mountain, In the middle of the Rheine, the cute face and sweet lips …(La la la la, La la , mmmm , mm …)Keep the lovely smile, in your juicy icy eyes Open the heaven for my eyes, forever angel voice Never angry never harsh, never mad never marsh Dear or darling, either diamond or dime, Overall the dream of the world
Messengers often come when you struggle with a decision, need support or are trying to find your balance. They can come as animals like coyote and lizard appeared for Kate and for me. They can be spirit guides, angels, family members, ancestors and friends. A messenger can even be me! Many of them you will not notice because you are too preoccupied to see them. There may come a time, however, when you might sense the millions of angels too small to be witnessed, like fairies that live in the curve of a leaf or who sleep under the tiniest rose petal.
The trouble with being an angel on Earth was that he was still a man. He got hungry. He thirsted. His lungs clamored without the draw of air. And for this woman, the only one in a thousand years, his body and soul ached. The trick was to will his mind, and ignore the Earthly sensations, as he'd done so many times with pain and trouble. Desire was no different, a call of the flesh. He could divide himself-acknowledge the lust and act on intellect. But see, the trouble with being an angel was that he was still a man.
He fills me with horror and I do not hate him. How can I hate him, Raoul? Think of Erik at my feet, in the house on the lake, underground. He accuses himself, he curses himself, he implores my forgiveness!...He confesses his cheat. He loves me! He lays at my feet an immense and tragic love. ... He has carried me off for love!...He has imprisoned me with him, underground, for love!...But he respects me: he crawls, he moans, he weeps!...And, when I stood up, Raoul, and told him that I could only despise him if he did not, then and there, give me my liberty...he offered it...he offered to show me the mysterious road...Only...only he rose too...and I was made to remember that, though he was not an angel, nor a ghost, nor a genius, he remained the voice...for he sang. And I listened ... and stayed!...That night, we did not exchange another word. He sang me to sleep.
A demon seduced an angel in the middle of the nightand they gave the stars a glimpse.There was nothing casual about it, it was tender skin and battle scars breathless passion under storm clouds a rapid river stream mirroring the moon light. Until one day, he left her with nothing, just a bruised heart and carved memories iridescent wings chipped on the edges heat under her skin, like an ember burning low.I asked her, "What do you do after a love like that?"She laughed.And madness danced behind her eyes.But she flew so high the world was jealous.
I know a person that's like none i've even met before,one that is kind,gentle and has the most beautiful heart i've ever seen.For him all the good things in the world would not suffice for he deserves so so much more...somehow the wings i saw yesterday in a picture look like the wings i can see on his angel soul ^^
It was wrong to do this," said the angel."You should live like a flower,Holding malice like a puppy,Waging war like a lambkin.""Not so," quoth the manWho had no fear of spirits;"It is only wrong for angelsWho can live like the flowers,Holding malice like the puppies,Waging war like the lambkins.
This human body is the greatest body in the universe, and a human being the greatest being. Man is higher than all animals, than all angels; none is greater than man. Even the Devas (gods) will have to come down again and attain to salvation through a human body. Man alone attains to perfection, not even the Devas.
This world is too fast and the people are so busy they may never get the time to stop and admire you when they pass you by; and I'm afraid this will slowly make you forget how very beautiful you are. Never forget that, love. You're an angel. The most beautiful of all angels.
May you always have angels to walk with you on the right path.
I don't know who you are; you could be an axe murderer for all I know. How am I supposed to trust you and follow you? For that matter, follow you where?" Gabe inquired."Search yourself, what do your instincts tell you?" Uri asked."That you're a crazy nut job and freaking me out!" Gabe snapped back.
You feel like you're cursed. Death follows you wherever you go and you feel completely abandoned. You wish it would all end for you. You think that death would be a release, yet something compels you forward."The blood drained from Gabe's face as he listened to Uri speak. "You're not alone, Gabe, there are many more like us and we want to help you.
I did,” Henric said, with a triumphant look.“Oh,” Meena said, opening the book to the page 74, the one from her dream. “You mean thisprince?” She pointed at the illustration of Lucifer.Henric’s grin faltered slightly. “Precisely.”“He’s not a prince,” Meena said. “As you know perfectly well, he’s a fallen angel. And what wasLucien’s mother?”“A p-princess,” Henric stammered. But there was terror in his eyes.“No,” Lucien said, shaking his head. “She was an angel.”Meena swung around to look at him. Tears glittered in her eyes as she gazed up into his, whichhad gone back to their normal deep brown.“Yes, Lucien,” she said, holding the book open in front of him. “That’s why Henric was trying tokeep this from you. Because he realized it was the one thing that might help you remember what yourmother always taught you. You, of all people, really do have a choice. You can choose to be good . . .because you are part good. No matter how hard you try to be the devil’s son, you’ve still got an angel fora mother.
A blush of breeze rose from the grass. Jacob felt as if an angel's wing had beat against his cheek. He touched his cheek slowly. He felt embarrassed by the thought."That I should think an angel came to me."He wept. And, again, the brush of breeze against his cheek.
They don't live here. They live in Heaven.'Where's that?'I don't know,' I said. 'Enos says it's right here, on this side of the wall, but I never saw an angel over here. Kuba says it's in Russia. Olek says Washington America.'What's Washington America?'Enos says it's a place with no wall and no lice and lots of potatoes.
Can I ask you something very personal while you try things on?”“Yes, of course, what do you want to know?”“…well, it’s just that… I don’t want to offend you,” she said uncertainly. “Oh come on, Akane, out with it!” Mitsuko prompted her, “I want to know the answer too!”“Very well,” agreed the little auburn pixie and cut to the chase: “Where are your wings?”The question was so unexpected that I burst out laughing. “I had to part with them when I came down to Earth. “It’s something every angel has to deal with if they’re planning to spend any length of time down here.”“And what’s your life like, up there?” Akane asked. “In the Kingdom of Heaven, we live as beings of pure light.” “Up there, there’s no such thing as fear, pain, hot or cold. We don’t know hunger, suffering, ageing or death. We have no need of food and we don’t sleep. We are the messengers of God and we watch over the lives of mortals. We come to Earth often, but only as spirits, and once we’ve completed our task down here, we always go back to the White Woods.
Daniel came to sit beside me, ignoring my wariness and settling into the thin, worn cushion. “Who’d you think I was that first night we met?” “The night you attacked me, you mean? I thought you were a vampire.” “A vampire?” His look was one of genuine confusion. “Vampires aren’t real.
The summer I turned eleven, I found out that ghosts are real. Guess it's hard to rest nice and easy in your coffin if you got stuff on your mind. Your soul stays chained to earth instead of zipping up to heaven to sing in one of the angel choirs. Sometimes ghosts show up in the msot peculiar places. Sometimes ghosts fool you. Then you are those ghosts that hang around because we have unfinished business. Business that sinks like old crawfish left in a bucket for a week. That's some nasty smell let me tell you. But the most important thing I learned is that ghosts can help you spill your guts before guilt eats you up and leaves a hole that can't ever be fixed no matter how many patches you try to steam iron across it.
It’s a beautiful smile. One that brightens the rat-infested attic room. No one has ever smiled like that at me. No one. Everything inside me twists with the need to keep her close.I should be pissed. Who knows if I’ll ever see the money from Eric. Who knows if Noah and I will lose the lease, sending me back into the system. Right now, I don’t f*cking care. I’m touching an angel.
When we recognize that our personal good coincides with the Good of everyone, our inner light is turned on: at this point, when a human being becomes a Human Angel, their light, like a beacon, shines all around.The more lights are lit, the more humanity will be enlightened in these dark times, when the world of the ego, driven to its extreme, has begun its dramatic collapse.
I laughed at him as he said this. “I am not an angel,” I asserted; “and I will not be one till I die: I will be myself. Mr. Rochester, you must neither expect nor exact anything celestial of me—for you will not get it, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.
Illium, his expression subdued as it had been for too many days, turned to her. “Mind if I have a go?”“Kick his ass.”Stripping off his shirt and boots, Illium held out his hand for one of Venom’s blades. Lips curving, Venom passed it over. “Sure you can handle me, pretty, pretty Bluebell?”“Did I ever tell you about my snakeskin boots?” A savage grin, and she knew Venom was about to bear the brunt of whatever haunted the blue-winged angel.Venom swirled his blade in hand. “I do think I need some new feathers for my pillow.
I’ve noticed in my life that the people who act as my angels are not some strange angelic creatures that seem almost untouchable, but are more real than that. They are people who have tasted sorrow, who have felt pain, and in a way, that makes them capable of being an angel. In their darkest moments they have become strong.
So many stories lived behind my eyes. I carried the people I hurt, the lies I told, my sick relationship with food, wherever I went. My mind was rarely grounded in the moment. My past was heavy and constant; my thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone. But when I was with the shelter dogs, I didn’t have anything to hide. Sometimes what existed behind my eyes fell away. I wasn’t bulimic or unlovable or fat or a liar. I was a part of life again. I was an observer, and to more than just the dark cyclical patterns of the mind—here was the strong, sturdy presence of another—the breath moving in and out of Angel’s chest, the beating of her heart, the force of life moving through her and through me.
What had he done? Something horrible, something terrible, but something he'd done as a child. Can you commit murder in innocence? It's too big a thing for the human mind to take in, that's the problem. And it grew with the ever-larger newspaper pictures of a girl who was near enough an angel, even before she died. Only the young die good. And Angela Milton died young enough to be perfect.
Sometimes I feel like I don't belong anywhere, & it's gonna take so long for me to get to somewhere, Sometimes I feel so heavy hearted, but I can't explain cuz I'm so guarded. But that's a lonely road to travel, and a heavy load to bear. And it's a long, long way to heaven but I gotta get thereCan you send an angel?Can you send me an angel...to guide me.
If you are stupid enough not to know the difference between the devil and the angel, you quickly find the devil! This is what happens to most people in democracies just after elections!
Zachariah, Zachariah,' whispers Rachel, casting a practised eye over the back of his head and down the length of him, from the shoulder blades where his wings once grew, epochs ago, in some other guise: angel—guardian, avenging—or great vagrant bird—Daurian Jackdaw, Chimney Swift, Pacific Loon!
Some Ange'el are a bit more powerful. Each one has their own set of capabilities and level of skill depending on the purity of their genes and their age. Some Ange'el can heal ya. Some can convince ya to do their will. Some know what you're thinking. Some can speak to you using only their minds, and Viviane ... well, Viviane can do it all.
When we feel fear, we deny our True Nature, forgetting that, as an indivisible part of the Oneness, we have the same creative power as the Oneness. As we have unconsciously created our fears, similarly, we can consciously decree their end and start to create only what we choose to create.
And who talks of error now? I scarcely think the notion that flittered across my brain was an error. I believe it was an inspiration rather than a temptation: it was very genial, very soothing—I know that. Here it comes again! It is no devil, I assure you; or if it be, it has put on the robes of an angel of light. I think I must admit so fair a guest when it asks entrance to my heart.”“Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel.”“Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger from the eternal throne—between a guide and a seducer?”“I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you said the suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will work you more misery if you listen to it.”“Not at all—it bears the most gracious message in the world: for the rest, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don’t make yourself uneasy. Here, come in, bonny wanderer!”He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but his own; then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his chest, he seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being.“Now,” he continued, again addressing me, “I have received the pilgrim—a disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it has done me good: my heart was a sort of charnel; it will now be a shrine.
Jamie glanced at her notes. "So let's be honest, Jacks, can we? What is the best part of being an Angel? Is it the lifestyle? Is it the parties? The fame? What's your favourite part?" "Just having this chance," he said after considering. "And what chance is that?" Jamie asked. Jacks's blue eyes twinkled. "The chance to be a hero.
I wish I could wrap up the glitter star-green of this moment and hand it to you like an angel gift. Give you the heat lightning flying in jagged silence over the distant mountains. And the smell of September prairie grass and the even fainter scent of October pine now descending . . .
Love you,” Xavier said just before he drifted back to sleep.“Love you more,” I said playfully.“Not a chance,” Xavier said, fully awake now. “I’m bigger, I can contain more love.”“I’m smaller, therefore my love particles are more compressed, which means I can fit more in.”Xavier laughed. “That argument makes no sense. Overruled.”“I’m just basing it on how much I miss you when you’re not around,” I countered.“How can you possibly know how much I miss you?” he said. “Have you got some sort of built-in miss-o-meter that can give us a reading?”“I’m a girl; of course I have a built-in miss-o-meter.
Yeah, and so Max and Dylan are supposed to, like, go to Germany and have kids together," I heard Gazzy say. My eyes popped open and I bolted upright."What?" Fang said, his voice icy."Gazzy!" I yelled.Wide blue eyes looked at me in surprise, then back at Fang's stoic face. "Oh. Was I not supposed to say anything?" Gazzy asked.
I want to see the front of you.”“That’s what all the girls say.”“Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.”“Your mate’s not going to like this.”“As if that’s going to bother you?”“True. It actually makes it worth the effort.”With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was.“Wow,” she breathed.“I know, right? Hung like a horse.”“If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.”“About my size.”She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.
After a long time, I cleared my throat. “So anyway, when we get to Nevada...I think we should rethink yourdad’s rule.”Alex glanced down at me and smiled – the first real smile I’d seen on his face in a long time. “You knowwhat? It’s already been rethought and completely ditched,” he said. And he wrapped his arms around meand we stood looking up at the mountains, with the rising rays of the sun lighting them from the east.
You know, you really don't have to kill anyone over this. I'll get an annulment. It will be like never happened"His eyes came to her, briefly meeting her gaze before dropping to her mouth. "You'll have to make that a divorce instead""No you don't understand. An annulment will be much easier to obtain"His gaze locked with hers now. Cassie became slightly breathless with the intensity of his stare."Not after tonight, it won't." He said in his mesmerizing drawl."Why?" She barely got the word out."Because i'm in the mood to play husband""You're what?"He started toward her. She was too stunned to move, so he was there and reaching for her before she had time to think about running."We're having a wedding night," he said as he lifted her off her feet.--
His hands as he worked were deft and sure, but so gentle -- he was being careful not to hurt me any more than he had to. I sat very still, hardly daring to move.I was in love with him.The knowledge swept through me, truer than anything I'd ever known. Oh, my God, I was in love with him.
The glow dies down, and she's standing at the end of my bed--the one who's been following me around leaving feather messages. I take in the torn fishnets, plaid mini-kilt, shiny, riveted breastplate with leather straps at the sides and a worn Great Temolo decal near the left shoulder. Her wings are a crazy black-and-white-checkered pattern, like they've been spray-painted at a body shop to look like hipster sneakers.
I’m going to ask you a question,” I said. “And I want an answer this time, no dodging and no playing cryptic. Is the reason you’re leaving because you need to look for Nicholas, or because you want to get away from me?”Daniel looked me square in the eye, unblinking. “The first thing accomplishes the second, now doesn’t it?
Let twelve angels come into being to rule over chaos and the underworld." And look, from the cloud there appeared an angel whose face flashed with fire and whose appearance was defiled with blood. His name was Nebro, which means in translation 'rebel'; others call him Yaldabaoth.
He tasted like summertime - of wicked thunderstorms, fresh clover, and wild honeysuckle - and I had the sensation of falling, my stomach tumbling over and over again until calm finally reached in, rooting deep and stretching out to encompass everything: my mind, my body. And my soul - whatever that was. The same clean, almost scentless breeze whipped over us again, just like it had the first night we’d met, and I could physically feel one chapter of my life closing and another beginning.
I twisted my body, suddenly unable to stand his hands on me. “Do you really think I give a damn what you are? That anything else matters to me more than you, yourself? I don’t want you to stay because you think I need a protector, Daniel. I’ve been looking after myself for a very long time now, and I’ve done just fine. Dammit, have some faith in me.”“If I didn’t have faith in you, Sarah, I wouldn’t feel this way.
Daniel rested his hip on the counter, arms crossed, saying and offering nothing. “What? Are you thinking about sticking me with Luc permanently?” I laughed, the sound anxious. I waited for Daniel to laugh, too, at the sheer insanity of the idea. To reassure me he would never do something so cruel. But he stayed silent, something he was getting very good at. “You know something? Trying to have a discussion with you would work a lot better if you’d actually talk.” It was like riding on a merry-go-round, only without the merry. “You promised to stop keeping secrets from me, remember?
Then what’s the problem? You keep telling me she’s just a job. So, fine. The job’s done. You found her. You trained her. Now she has to do her part. She has to kill Dmitri. Whether she can survive the battle or not doesn’t matter, and it isn’t up to you to decide.” Luc got up from the swing and went to Daniel. “Listen, man, I’m trying to be a friend here. You’ve been down here so long you’re starting to think like one of them. Quit trying to grow a conscience and just finish what you started.
Taunt me at your peril, angel. I'm only a man. So before you tumble from heaven into my bed, be very sure it's what you want. Because once I've got you where I want you, nothing on earth or heaven will save you from me."Her mouth went dry as anticipation blazed through her body. "Then it's a good thing I don't want to be saved, isn't it?
I took that mint because I wanted to. I wanted to remember who I was. I wanted to remember my family. Most of all, I wanted to remember you. I wanted to remember what we are together, and how we got to that point. I wanted you to know I remember all of those precious moments. And if I don’t make it through this, I wanted to go knowing I love you. I wanted you to know I remember why I love you.
Please?” asked the girl.“I AM BUSY. I AM TRYING TO FIX CONTINENTAL DRIFT.”“I…didn’t know it was broken.”Uriel’s face became more animated, his speech faster.“IT HAS BEEN BROKEN FOR FIVE WEEKS AND FIVE DAYS. I THINK IT BROKE WHEN I RELOADED NEW ZEALAND FROM A BACKUP COPY, BUT I DO NOT KNOW WHY. MY SYNCHRONIZATION WAS IMPECCABLE AND THE CHANGE PROPAGATED SIMULTANEOUSLY ACROSS ALL SEPHIROT. I THINK SOMEBODY BOILED A GOAT IN ITS MOTHER’S MILK. IT IS ALWAYS THAT. I KEEP TELLING PEOPLE NOT TO DO IT, BUT NOBODY LISTENS.
I opened the window to let some fresh air into the room and was surprised to see that the rain was not just falling, but that it formed an actual wall of water, as if the whole sky were falling. While I was staring at the strange phenomenon, the form of an angel began to appear before me… It was Matariel, the Angel of Rain, whom I had not seen since my descent and who on this occasion appeared in a shiny, blue-grey form. She was only an arm’s length away and stared straight at me. She looked like a young woman floating on enormous wings -not a single drop of rain touched her. The smell of the cool rain swept the room as Matariel began talking to me. She never once moved her lips, but her every word was clearly audible in my head.
I was now blinded by a flood of light, but when I realised how many countless numbers of angels were imprisoned in Bardo’s dismal prison, it took my breath away. “Gabriel!” I shouted to my leader with all my might, but he gave no sign of hearing me. “Gabriel!” I said, trying again, and it seemed that the handsome face reacted just a little. At that moment, a band of goblins reached the hall with a terrible ruckus. I had to flee. I grabbed the chains binding Gabriel and cried one last time . “Gabriel!” …the angel’s emerald green eyes looked up. He gazed deep into my eyes, . “Please forgive me,” I whispered. My chest felt like it would burst with pain from the guilt burning inside me. “I swear I’ll atone for my sin and get you out of here!” . Gabriel gave no reply, but just looked at me sadly. I would have been less tortured if he had screamed at me or come at me, but he simply let me sink into my guilt.
After a while I noticed that the pendant heart-shaped I wore around my neck, as every angel does, had begun to pulsate with blue light. I knew that this was thanks to Raphael and that he was sending healing energy for Joshua. I took my necklace off and gently put it round his neck so as not to wake him. The blue light grew stronger and started to flicker – then, drawing circles on the sick boy’s skin, it vanished around the level of his heart chakras. As blue light pervaded his entire body from head to toe, I could feel his burning skin slowly cool and his breathing became even.
Look deep inside yourself and find your inner angel. Your inner angel will show you how to drop the anchor of emotional burden and fly. Your inner angel knows where to find light to chase away the darkness. Your inner angels helps you balance when the world pushes and pulls. And, most important of all, your inner angel has a wingspan that is broad enough to lift the hearts of those in pain.
He tries to get close to her because he wants to know what her glow feels like. She’s alone on the dance floor and even though she’s dancing, there’s a kind of sadness lurking about her, like her heart is somewhere else. Roman doesn’t think he has ever seen a woman look this beautiful. It’s not just her halo either. Even in that one brief moment Roman feels it. He feels her become a part of his life. Her halo is glowing a little less bright now, and Roman doesn’t know why. But he wants to find out.
With a new found confidence, Briston comes alive. "Then we have to do something. We need to call the police, or the swat team, maybe the military.""Yeah, and why we're at it, why don't we send a prayer up to Heaven and tell the other angels to go ahead and take our names off the eternal guest list.
We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for him. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination and love kept us fighting for them.
You do that, and I take back every nasty thing I've ever said about you."He grinned, his mood changing from serious to wicked in an instant. "Why? I'm all those things and more."I shook my head. Ian was more proud of his depravity than anyone I'd met, but if he helped me pull Bones out from under four bespelled vampires and one demonically-enchanced vamp, I'd shower him with prostitutes and porn while swearing he was an angel.
Give me this moment," Kahl said to me. I glanced up at him and couldn't fathom the depths of his taunting amber irises."You have it." "Be my angel... Leave with me," he whispered. In that moment, when thoughts of the boy I loved left me and fissures of pure bliss consumed me, I knew I was in trouble.
Something’s different,” Carlos continued. “Tonight you came in with no scowling or growling. Why thechange?”Robby shrugged one shoulder. “I’m trying to convince you I’m no’ crazy. If I kept doing the same thing when itwasna working, would that no’ be crazy?”“Good point.” Carlos rinsed the bowl and placed it in the dishwasher. “So you’re trying a new strategy tonight.”Robby removed the bottled blood from the microwave and filled a glass. “Tonight I saw an angel.”Carlos’s eyes widened. “And you’re still trying to convince me you’re not crazy?
Teagan - "What is it?"Garreth - "No one's ever prayed for me before. I've always heard your prayers. You prayed for me to come to you when you had a bad dream. I even heard you pray for a perfect, selfless, superwonderful boy to fall in love with. But I've never heard you pray for me.
Betsy: You gentlemen stand around and look tough while I do an astral reconnaissance. Fantomex: I confess to feeling inferior in the company of such a gifted telepath. But for you, Warren, to be so.. dependent. It must be emasculating. Warren: Oh yeah, it's a real hardship. Worst part is all the sex it leads to. Terrible stuff to endure.
He caught her bythe shoulders and gave her a hard little shake. "Do you think you're so charming in that silly little nightdress that I can't resist tumbling you? Do you think I have no pride when it comes to you?""B-b-but I—""Well, you're right," he shouted. "I don't!"With that, his lips came down on hers
When he’d woken that morning to find her gone, he’d used the time alone to clean himself up in every sense of the word. Decisions about his future had been part of it, but there'd been more, too. Because in all the time they’d known one another he’d been completely unconcerned with his appearance. Now, however, he wanted to show her the man he truly was. More than that, the man she’d helped him become: healed, strong, capable. No longer in the shadows, but bathed in light. No longer in need of saving or protecting or anything. Except her.
I’m by myself,” she said finally. “No family to speak of.”“I see.” Leaning forward again, he rested his arms against the table. “That must be rather difficult.”“Sometimes.”“And lonely, I imagine. Perhaps that is why you came here tonight?”Her jaw popped under the strain of maintaining decorum. “First: I said I was alone, not lonely. There's a big difference. And second: is that really why you think I'm here?”“I do not know what to think. I know you must have reasons for being here other than what you have already hinted at. Reasons important enough to make an otherwise intelligent woman not only bring food to a stranger so late at night, but also accept his invitation to sit inside an empty motel room without a second thought.”“Why don't you just call me a hooker while you're at it?
That last night,” she said quietly. “Why did you say you hoped you'd never see me again?”He hadn’t said it; it had been his last thought when he’d turned to leave. But he didn’t seem to notice the discrepancy as he looked at her now.“Because,” he began before faltering, his voice leaving on a sigh. His left hand reached to rake a path through his hair, scattering the inky thickness in all directions. “The more I learn of you, the more difficult it is to stay away.
Angel!I whirled round. 'No! Don't you Angel me, Marcus Cohen! You've treated me like dirt-suspicious ever sinds we met. Testing me is the final straw. You've never thought about how your behaviour affects me-not once. You never understood that all I wanted was to be allowed to love you.
Feathers layered like dragons’ scales,their symmetry perfectly fledged,framing slender shoulders; sublime.A tumble of red tresses shimmer.Soft wings arch toward the sky.Once a cherub, she has grown.A young woman now, strong and lithe.Powerful with stormy eyes alight,windswept in her glory.An angel in body and spirit.- Winged Justice
The only way Father is going to be upset in this case, is with the way the two of you are behaving toward one another. We are family, whether you believe it or not. Your lack of faith in Lucifer is what will do the damage in the long run. It has nothing at all to do with the time I spend with him.