Of the love or hatred God has for the English, I know nothing, but I do know that they will all be thrown out of France, except those who die there.
Interpretation
The quote reflects on the deep connection between a nation's identity and its fate, highlighting love for one's homeland.
Joan of Arc's quote illustrates a complex relationship between national identity and divine judgment. She expresses uncertainty about God's feelings toward the English but implies that those who die in France are inherently tied to the land, emphasizing the idea that love for one's country transcends life and death. This suggests a spiritual bond that can endure beyond a person's existence, showcasing the intertwining of loyalty, sacrifice, and national pride.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about national pride during a memorial service.
King of England, and you, duke of Bedford, who call yourself regent of the kingdom of France... settle your debt to the king of Heaven; return to the Maiden, who is envoy of the king of Heaven, the keys to all the good towns you took and violated in France.
I saw them with my bodily eyes as clearly as I see you. And when they departed, I used to weep and wish they would take me with them.
I place trust in God, my creator, in all things; I love Him with all my heart.
If I am not, may God put me there; and if I am, may God so keep me.
I would rather die than do something which I know to be a sin, or to be against God's will.
About Jesus Christ and the Church, I simply know they're just one thing.
Love has as few problems as a motor car. The only problems are the driver, the passengers, and the road.
I think that the most difficult thing is allowing yourself to be loved, so receiving the love and feeling like you deserve it is a pretty big struggle. I suppose that's what I've learnt recently, to allow myself to be loved.
Oh, I don’t mean you’re handsome, not the way people think of handsome. Your face seems kind. But your eyes - they’re beautiful. They’re wild, crazy, like some animal peering out of a forest on fire.
I wasn't in love with her. And she didn't love me. For me the question of love was irrelevant. What I sought was the sense of being tossed about by some raging, savage force, in the midst of which lay something absolutely crucial. I had no idea what that was. But I wanted to thrust my hand right inside her body and touch it, whatever it was.
I felt like a seed in a pomegranate. Some say that the pomegranate was the real apple of Eve, fruit of the womb, I would eat my way into perdition to taste you.
I think 'The Color Purple' is so bursting with love, the need for connection, the showing of the need for connection around the globe.
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