Priest Quotes

“I'm going to rub your faces in things you try to avoid. I don't find it strange that all you want to believe is only that which comforts you. How else do humans invent the traps which betray us into mediocrity? How else do we define cowardice?”
― Frank Herbert, Children of Dune

“You, Priest in your mufti, you are a chaplain to the self-satisfied. I come not to challenge Muad'Dib but to challenge you! Is your religion real when it costs you nothing and carries no risk? Is your religion real when you fatten upon it? Is your religion real when you commit atrocities in its name? Whence comes your downward degeneration from the original revelation? Answer me, Priest!”
― Frank Herbert, Children of Dune

“Even a man who makes the most modest pretensions to integrity must know that a theologian, a priest, a pope of today not only errs when he speaks, but actually lies— and that he no longer escapes blame for his lie through “innocence” or “ignorance.” The priest knows, as every one knows, that there is no longer any “God,” or any “sinner,” or any “Saviour”— that “free will” and the “moral order of the world” are lies —: serious reflection, the profound self-conquest of the spirit, allow no man to pretend that he does not know it. . . . All the ideas of the church are now recognized for what they are — as the worst counterfeits in existence, invented to debase nature and all natural values; the priest himself is seen as he actually is — as the most dangerous form of parasite, as the venomous spider of creation. . . . We know, our conscience now knows — just what the real value of all those sinister inventions of priest and church has been and what ends they have served, with their debasement of humanity to a state of self-pollution, the very sight of which excites loathing — the concepts “the other world,” “the last judgment,” “the immortality of the soul,” the “soul” itself: they are all merely so many instruments of torture, systems of cruelty, whereby the priest becomes master and remains master. . . .”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ

“Christ is our Way; we walk in Him. He is our Truth; we embrace Him. He is our Life; we live in Him. He is our Lord; we choose Him to rule over us. He is our Master; we serve Him. He is our Teacher, instructing us in the way of salvation. He is our Prophet, pointing out the future. He is our Priest, having atoned for us. He is our Advocate, ever living to make intercession for us. He is our Saviour, saving to the uttermost. He is our Root; we grow from Him. He is our Bread; we feed upon Him. He is our Shepherd, leading us into green pastures. He is our true Vine; we abide in Him. He is the Water of Life; we slake our thirst from Him. He is the fairest among ten thousand: we admire Him above all others. He is 'the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of His person;' we strive to reflect His likeness. He is the upholder of all things; we rest upon Him. He is our wisdom; we are guided by Him. He is our Righteousness; we cast all our imperfections upon Him. He is our Sanctification; we draw all our power for holy life from Him. He is our Redemption, redeeming us from all iniquity. He is our Healer, curing all our diseases. He is our Friend, relieving us in all our necessities. He is our Brother, cheering us in our difficulties.”
― D.L. Moody, The Way to God and How to Find It

“I do not think I was made to help people."

"And what were you made to do?"

"To wander.”
― Devin Madson, The Blood of Whisperers

“In which case, why not cancer of the brain? As a terrified, half-aware imbecile, I might even scream for a priest at the close of business, though I hereby state while I am still lucid that the entity thus humiliating itself would not in fact be “me.” (Bear this in mind, in case of any later rumors or fabrications.)”
― Christopher Hitchens, Mortality

“...You want a special truth. *You* want the truth to be a truth that *you* like. You want it to be a pretty little truth that fits what you already believe!”
― Terry Pratchett, Nation

“Most priests wish they were as righteous as they seem to most members of their congregations.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“O miracle—thus to be able to give [peace] we ourselves do not possess, sweet miracle of our empty hands!”
― Georges Bernanos, The Diary of a Country Priest

“Oh ! aimer une femme ! être prêtre ! être haï ! l’aimer de toutes les fureurs de son âme, sentir qu’on donnerait pour le moindre de ses sourires son sang, ses entrailles, sa renommée, son salut, l’immortalité et l’éternité, cette vie et l’autre ; regretter de ne pas être roi, génie, empereur, archange, dieu, pour lui mettre un plus grand esclave sous les pieds ; l’étreindre nuit et jour de ses rêves et de ses pensées ; et la voir amoureuse d’une livrée de soldat ! et n’avoir à lui offrir qu’une sale soutane de prêtre dont elle aura peur et dégoût ! Être présent, avec sa jalousie et sa rage, tandis qu’elle prodigue à un misérable fanfaron imbécile des trésors d’amour et de beauté ! Voir ce corps dont la forme vous brûle, ce sein qui a tant de douceur, cette chair palpiter et rougir sous les baisers d’un autre ! Ô ciel ! aimer son pied, son bras, son épaule, songer à ses veines bleues, à sa peau brune, jusqu’à s’en tordre des nuits entières sur le pavé de sa cellule, et voir toutes les caresses qu’on a rêvées pour elle aboutir à la torture ! N’avoir réussi qu’à la coucher sur le lit de cuir ! Oh ! ce sont là les véritables tenailles rougies au feu de l’enfer ! Oh ! bienheureux celui qu’on scie entre deux planches, et qu’on écartèle à quatre chevaux ! — Sais-tu ce que c’est que ce supplice que vous font subir, durant les longues nuits, vos artères qui bouillonnent, votre cœur qui crève, votre tête qui rompt, vos dents qui mordent vos mains ; tourmenteurs acharnés qui vous retournent sans relâche, comme sur un gril ardent, sur une pensée d’amour, de jalousie et de désespoir ! Jeune fille, grâce ! trêve un moment ! un peu de cendre sur cette braise ! Essuie, je t’en conjure, la sueur qui ruisselle à grosses gouttes de mon front ! Enfant ! torture-moi d’une main, mais caresse-moi de l’autre ! Aie pitié, jeune fille ! aie pitié de moi !”
― Victor Hugo, Notre-Dame de Paris

“God placed us on earth to be kings and priests”
― Sunday Adelaja

“Of the poetical parts of the Bible, that are called prophecies, I have spoken in the former part of 'The Age of Reason,' and already in this, where I have said that the word for prophet is the Bible-word for Poet, and that the flights and metaphors of those poets, many of which have become obscure by the lapse of time and the change of circumstances, have been ridiculously erected into things called prophecies, and applied to purposes the writers never thought of. When a priest quotes any of those passages, he unriddles it agreeably to his own views, and imposes that explanation upon his congregation as the meaning of the writer. The whore of Babylon has been the common whore of all the priests, and each has accused the other of keeping the strumpet; so well do they agree in their explanations.”
― Thomas Paine, The Age of Reason

“Nature indeed plants the seeds of religion--fear and ignorance; kingcraft and priestcraft water and tend it.”
― W.G. Pogson Smith, Leviathan

“The Church's obsession with sexual restrictions is and always has been wrong wrong wrong. Wrong to be contemptuous of naïve young women like Philomena and me. Wrong to ignore the men involved in creating "illegitimate" children. Wrong to demonize gays while knowing full well how many men and women of the Church are gay. Wrong to excuse and hide criminal priests, transferring them to new, unsuspecting parishes. Wrong to think that forbidding consensual human sexuality is more important than Christ's message of compassion and forgiveness.”
― Ann Medlock

“Power comes at a price, love," Veliss replied through bared teeth, maintaining the smile she offered to the townsfolk lining the square.
"What power?"
"All power. The power to rule, to kill, or, in your case this fine morning, the power to incite the lust of the old goat you're about to meet."
"Lust? I have no desire to incite lust in anyone."
Veliss turned to her with a quizzical expression, her smile suddenly genuine. "Then I'm afraid you're in for a lifetime of disappointment.”
― Anthony Ryan, Queen of Fire

“What do you call someone who thinks deeply and can't stop talking about it?”
“A priest?” said Tess, mystified. “A philosopher?”
― Rachel Hartman, Tess of the Road

“Even a man who makes the most modest pretensions to integrity must know that a theologian, a priest, a pope of today not only errs when he speaks, but actually lies— and that he no longer escapes blame for his lie through “innocence” or “ignorance.” The priest knows, as every one knows, that there is no longer any “God,” or any “sinner,” or any “Saviour”— that “free will” and the “moral order of the world” are lies —: serious reflection, the profound self-conquest of the spirit, allow no man to pretend that he does not know it. . . . All the ideas of the church are now recognized for what they are — as the worst counterfeits in existence, invented to debase nature and all natural values; the priest himself is seen as he actually is — as the most dangerous form of parasite, as the venomous spider of creation. . . . We know, our conscience now knows — just what the real value of all those sinister inventions of priest and church has been and what ends they have served, with their debasement of humanity to a state of self-pollution, the very sight of which excites loathing — the concepts “the other world,” “the last judgment,” “the immortality of the soul,” the “soul” itself: they are all merely so many instruments of torture, systems of cruelty, whereby the priest becomes master and remains master. . . .”
― Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ

“If he had given away anything else, he would have been charged with indecent exposure.”
― Edmund Campion, Great Australian Catholics

“Teaching is no joke, sonny! ... Comforting truths, they call it! Truth is meant to save you first, and the comfort comes afterwards. Besides, you've no right to call that sort of thing comfort. Might as well talk about condolences! The Word of God is a red-hot iron. And you who preach it 'ud go picking it up with a pair of tongs, for fear of burning yourself, you daren't get hold of it with both hands. It's too funny! Why, the priest who descends from the pulpit of Truth, with a mouth like a hen's vent, a little hot but pleased with himself, he's not been preaching: at best he's been purring like a tabby-cat. Mind you that can happen to us all, we're all half asleep, it's the devil to wake us up, sometimes — the apostles slept all right at Gethsemane. Still, there's a difference... And mind you many a fellow who waves his arms and sweats like a furniture-remover isn't necessarily any more awakened than the rest. On the contrary. I simply mean that when the Lord has drawn from me some word for the good of souls, I know, because of the pain of it.”
― Georges Bernanos, The Diary of a Country Priest

“His face frankly displays his suffering, expressing it with a truly royal simplicity. At such moments even the very best people are apt to give themselves away with the kind of look which says to you more or less directly: 'You see how I'm sticking it out; don't praise me, it's my nature; thanks all the same.' But the Curé de Torcy looks straight at you, guilelessly. His eyes beg your compassion and sympathy. But with what nobility they beg! A king might beg in just that way.”
― Georges Bernanos, The Diary of a Country Priest

“Father Hobbe, his cassock skirts hitched up to his waist, was fighting with a quarterstaff, ramming the pole into French faces. ‘In the name of the Father,’ he shouted, and a Frenchman reeled back with a pulped eye, ‘and of the Son,’ Father Hobbe snarled as he broke a man’s nose, ‘and of the Holy Ghost!”
― Bernard Cornwell, The Archer's Tale

“Your level of knowledge determines if you can be a priest for God or not.”
― Sunday Adelaja, The Mountain of Ignorance

“Tu sais que t'es chez toi quand t'as trouvé un trou où calancher en paix.”
― Nicolas Jarry, Aral du Temple

“The priest must teach the people, the fear of God.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“Blessed is he who turned many souls from sin.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“The priest must preach the pure words of God.”
― Lailah Gifty Akita

“To confess?! But what if the priest snitched me to God?”
― Ljupka Cvetanova, The New Land

“All preachers speak confidently about life after death as if they once died, even though almost all of them have never even fainted.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana

“In fact, the old depression, heaviness and fatigue were thoroughly overcome by this system of procedures, life became very interesting again: awake, eternally awake, sleepless, glowing, burned out, exhausted and yet not tired, – this is how man, the ‘sinner’, looked when initiated into these mysteries. That great old magician fighting lethargy, the ascetic priest – had obviously won, his kingdom had come: already people were no longer making com- plaints against pain, they thirsted for it; ‘more pain! more pain’ screamed the desire of his disciples and initiates for centuries. Every excess of feeling that hurt, everything that broke, overthrew, crushed, entranced and enraptured, the secret of the torture chamber, the ingenuity of hell itself – all this was now discovered, guessed at and utilized, everything was at the magician’s service, from now on, everything served towards the victory of his ideal, the ascetic ideal . . . ‘My kingdom is not of this world’104 – is what he kept on saying: did he really have the right to talk like that? . . . Goethe claimed there were only thirty-six tragic situ- ations from this we gather, if we did not know already, that Goethe was not an ascetic priest. He – knows more . . .”
― Nietszche

“I saw the priest take note of the time. What time was it? Then I felt his finger on my forehead. And I realized, whatever time it was, that it was the last moment of my life as an Episcopalian.”
― Lorena Cassady, Her Perilous Journey