Superstition is the poetry of life.
Superstition is the poetry of life.
Superstition is the only religion of which base souls are capable of.
Superstition is the only religion of which base souls are capable of.
British diplomats and Anglo-American types in Washington have a near-supers
British diplomats and Anglo-American types in Washington have a near-superstitious prohibition on uttering the words 'Special Relationship' to describe relations between Britain and America, lest the specialness itself vanish like a phantom at cock-crow.
There is in superstition a senseless fear of God.
There is in superstition a senseless fear of God.
Religion is not removed by removing superstition.
Religion is not removed by removing superstition.
I die adoring God loving my friends not hating my enemies and detesting
I die adoring God loving my friends not hating my enemies and detesting superstition.
Superstition is the religion of feeble minds.
Superstition is the religion of feeble minds.
The general root of superstition is that men observe when things hit and n
The general root of superstition is that men observe when things hit and not when they miss and commit to memory the one and forget and pass over the other.
Every country has a cultural legacy and religious practices for reasons tha
Every country has a cultural legacy and religious practices for reasons that I don’t believe fall under the category of superstition, something that a religious scholar should understand.
Appa enjoys our current prosperity with considerable hesitation, as if it w
Appa enjoys our current prosperity with considerable hesitation, as if it were undeserved. He’s given to quoting a proverb that says wealth shouldn’t strike suddenly like a visitation, but instead grow gradually like a tree.
There are none so superstitious as the educated, for often they see in thei
There are none so superstitious as the educated, for often they see in their own time - as an article of faith unsubstantiated by experience - the final end of human progress.
Standing at the window, reading the menu of Obediah's services, the Minotau
Standing at the window, reading the menu of Obediah's services, the Minotaur wishes he could believe in what she has to offer: a promise woven into deep lines of his palm, some turn of fate told by a card. But faith is a nebulous thing and charlatans a di
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