The heretic is always better dead. And mortal eyes cannot distinguish the saint from the heretic.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Heretic Prays
the heretic kneels
by the old willow tree
alone in the darkness
with life....
and prays....
with no need for salvation,
redemption, or change....
no thought of self,
of need and want,
he just lets go...
and prays....
nameless, part of all....
formless, evolving forms.....
from soul to spirit....
becoming....
the scripture of small creatures,
the hymns of the wind.....
eternity unleashed in each moment.....
the heretic prays!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A heretic is a man who sees with his own eyes.
quote by Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every revolutionary ends up either by becoming an oppressor or a heretic.
quote by Albert Camus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Heretic!
just an old heretic,
with
...a
.....shovel,
........an axe,
....a pot of coffee,
and a smile!
tell me what
....you need, brother!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Paulina: It is an heretic that makes the fire, not she which burns in't.
line from The Winter's Tale, Act II, Scene 3, script by William Shakespeare (1610)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I shall never be a heretic; I may err in dispute, but I do not wish to decide anything finally; on the other hand, I am not bound by the opinions of men.
quote by Martin Luther
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I were a Roman Catholic, I should turn a heretic, in sheer desperation, because I would rather go to heaven than go to purgatory.
quote by Charles Spurgeon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Renegade
He’s a heretic to religion
Rebels against the system
Seeks justice, with derision
Finds purity in asceticism
poem by Ray Lucero
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To try to fashion something from suffering, to relish our triumphs, and to endure defeats without resentment: all that is compatible with the faith of a heretic.
quote by Walter Kaufmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paracelsus
‘Twas a reincarnated Akhenaten
Student of “The Emerald Tablet”
Branded a heretic, then forgotten
After sipping from Thoth’s goblet
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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If the individual, or heretic, gets hold of some essential truth, or sees some error in the system being practiced, he commits so many marginal errors himself that he is worn out before he can establish his point.
quote by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can understand why Christians call us heretics. But most important, who will God call a heretic? From God's point of view, my revelation is deeply orthodox.
quote by Sun Myung Moon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trinity
Even the sleeping genes learn
from their crashes with needles in eyes.
A candid house chooses to fade
after thinning of a blessing.
Legacy of a heretic
lives, dragging down the cracked joints
of a frozen mirror. The wild lips kissing
a tiger on mouth in black night of dancing spirits.
The raging bull decides to goad a raped
girl on white daisies of abandoned bed. All
the dead hunters start cheating the bandages
of a wheelchair, the trembling asteroids
start dispersing in cryptic dark. The world
ends with a kill, mourners lay wreaths and hand
out the cyanide capsules for future onslaughts
on the waking eyes.
poem by Satish Verma
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I Will Take An Egg Out Of The Robin's Nest
I WILL take an egg out of the robin's nest in the orchard,
I will take a branch of gooseberries from the old bush in the garden,
and go and preach to the world;
You shall see I will not meet a single heretic or scorner,
You shall see how I stump clergymen, and confound them,
You shall see me showing a scarlet tomato, and a white pebble from
the beach.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Nomenclature
O leviathan,
enter the dark cloud of death
defanging fire,
the mountain wants to shiver.
Sand was slipping from my fists.
I cannot hold the time;
wet eyes
will find another moon.
The milk had dried up in body.
A heart burns like bonfire,
for a heretic. A lone stranger
in a city of wolves.
A bareback beauty sits on the rock
waits for the sea
to bring her the poison. An Aphrodite
will never call for nothing.
Satish Verma
poem by Satish Verma
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Calender Day 79/Kalendar dan 79
A heretic moving through the linear system of the keyboards-that's who I am with the first touch of keys. The intruder of silence, the devotee of a disappearing sound. The acrobat on x/y axes, the loneliness of the rhythm aflame in the only mathematics that makes sense. I am swaying you - silence, I'm smashing you against the window panes of eyes, my hammers strike into hopelessness- how-how shall I play myself into infinity on the limited number of keys. The heretic shifting through the aureoles of sounds, the pearls of accords I scatter before my feet so that I could start walking. I am not playing-no- I am dipping my fingers into the endless and the traces of its sound I am splashing across the universe and spreading it into a smile.
The Pianist
Јеретик који пролази кроз линеарни систем клавијатура-то сам ја у првом додиру са диркама. Уљез тишине, поклоник звука који нестаје. акробата на икс ипсилон осама узаврелог ритма једине смислене математике. Љуљам те -тишино, разбијам о окна очију, ударају чекићи у безнађе како ћу - како на опсегу клавијатуре одсвирати себе у бескрај. Јеретик који пролази кроз ореоле тона, перле акорда проспипам пред сопствене ноге нњ бих ли тако коначно проходао. Ја не свирам, ја прсте умачем у оно бескрајно и трагове његове по свемиру размазујем и у осмјех развлачим.
Пијаниста
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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The ever crowned
Socrates was put to death;
He was charged to have corrupted the youth.
Giordano was burnt to death.
He was charged to have been a heretic.
Such statesmen weren’t crowned at their time.
Since then they’ve been crowned unlike their kings.
29.04.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Whose Boot Is It Anyway?
Alone & footless,
Sideswiped on the highway,
South of Grand Canyon,
The boot weathers the rain.
Whose feet had felt its pain?
The absent man hurdled from a car,
Dead, now a ghost among the juniper flat.
Gone now, but a pariah to his own left boot's wall.
A bum, a hectic gambler, a heretic,
Or just some dozing motorist;
Another question remains;
Was the little white cross sticking out of the pavement
His? Or was that happenstance,
Laced up to the top, some unlikely chance?
No man is here.
Yet a man was there.
A man who lost his life & line,
Leaving one boot as a puzzle to find.
It gives me a chasm of a feeling,
& at 80 mph my mind is reeling,
Where in all this wilderness
Is the fellow with at least one bare foot
& what fate did he meet?
poem by Stan Petrovich
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I think all the heretics I have known have been virtuous men. They have the virtue of fortitude or they would not venture to own their heresy; and they cannot afford to be deficient in any of the other virtues, as that would give advantage to their many enemies; and they have not like orthodox sinners, such a number of friends to excuse or justify them. Do not, however mistake me. It is not to my good friend's heresy that I impute his honesty. On the contrary, 'tis his honesty that has brought upon him the character of heretic.
quote by Benjamin Franklin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I... Then!
i am... then,
the fallen sparrow,
the broken pane,
the house where no one lives!
the worn out shoes,
the guitar in the closet,
the child with cancer
staring from the window...
the book signed and forgotten
beneath the pillow,
the shotgun in the corner,
eyes painted that hide.
the telephone that doesnt ring,
love stains on the sheet.
the old man trying to bum a cup of coffee,
and the young girl behind the counter
who takes him a cup.
the political prisoner,
his blood on the floor.
the refugee... his blood
on his face!
the heretic who turned away
and found the face of god.
the lover left alone,
the darkness of night.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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