My eyes are dry, my faith is old,
My heart is hard, my prayers are cold,
And I know how I ought to be,
Alive to you, and dead to me.
Oh, what can be done for an old heart like mine,
Soften it up with oil and wine.
The oil is you, your Spirit of love,
Please wash me anew, in the wine of your blood.
“
| — |
Keith Green (My Eyes Are Dry, 1978)
|
It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
“
| — |
Eric Bogle (And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, 1971)
|
Civil war… What did the words mean? Was there any such thing as ‘foreign war’? Was not all warfare between men warfare between brothers?
“
| — |
Victor Hugo (Les Misérables, 1862, Vol. IV, Book XIII, Ch. III, p.950)
|
The conflict between Right and Fact goes back to the dawn of human society. To bring it to an end, uniting the pure thought with human reality, peacefully causing Right to pervade Fact and Fact to be embedded in Right, this is the task of wise men.
“
| — |
Victor Hugo (Les Misérables, 1862, Vol. IV, Book I, Ch. I, p.709)
|
The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world and all who live in it…
Don’t worry. As long as you hit that wire with the connecting hook at precisely 88 miles per hour the instant the lightning strikes the tower… everything will be fine.
“
| — |
Dr. Emmett Brown (Back To The Future, 1985)
|
God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
“
| — |
Tax Collector (Luke 18:13)
|
People are ignorant of things they ought to know, and know things of which they ought to be ignorant.
“
| — |
Vicor Hugo (Les Misérables, 1862, p.540)
|
For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.
One can no more keep the mind from returning to an idea than the sea from returning to a shore. For the sailor, this is called the tide; in the case of the guilty, it is called remorse. God stirs up the soul as well as the ocean.
“
| — |
Victor Hugo (Les Misérables, 1862, Vol. I, Book VII, Ch. III, p.213)
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