Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.
Lewis B. SmedesRead
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Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future.
Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
Forgiveness is the final form of love.
I've been praying to God to show me how to forgive myself. Because... maybe... that's the thing I've been searching for.
Humanity is never so beautiful as when praying for forgiveness, or else forgiving another.
Forgiveness is the answer to the child's dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is made clean again.
It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.
If you learn how to forgive others for not being strong, then people can learn how to forgive you for your own issues.
Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory.
When we forgive evil we do not excuse it, we do not tolerate it, we do not smother it. We look the evil full in the face, call it what it is, let its horror shock and stun and enrage us, and only then do we forgive it.
One forgives to the degree that one loves.
If you haven't forgiven yourself something, how can you forgive others?
A happy marriage is the union of two good forgivers.
Whatever our religion, we know that if we really want to love, we must first learn to forgive before anything else.
How to forgive the world for its beauty, which merely disguises its ugliness; for its gentleness, which merely cloaks its cruelty; for its illusion of continuity, seamlessly, as the night follows the day, so to speak- whereas in reality life is a series of brutal raptures, falling upon your defenseless hands, like the blows of a woodman's axe?
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