Gratitude

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  He could have spent that five bucks and stayed drunk for another day or two. But he saved it for me. It was a beautiful and ugly thing. “Thanks, Dad,” I said. He was asleep. “Merry Christmas,” I said, and kissed him on the cheek. Red Versus White You probably think I’ve completely fallen in love with white people and that I don’t see anything good in Indians. Well, that’s false. I love my big sister. I think she’s double crazy and random. Ever since she moved, she’s sent me all these great Montana postcards. Beautiful landscapes and beautiful Indians. Buffalo. Rivers. Huge insects. Great postcards. She still can’t find a job, and she’s still living in that crappy little trailer. But she’s happy and working hard on her book. She made a New Year’s resolution to finish her book by summertime. Her book is about hope, I guess. I think she wants me to share in her romance. I love her for that. And I love my mother and father and my grandma. Ever since I’ve been at Reardan, and seen how great parents do their great parenting, I realize that my folks are pretty good. Sure, my dad has a drinking problem and my mom can be a little eccentric, but they make sacrifices for me. They worry about me. They talk to me. And best of all, they listen to me. I’ve learned that the worst thing a parent can do is ignore their children. And, trust me, there are plenty of Reardan kids who get ignored by their parents. There are white parents, especially fathers, who never come to the school. They don’t come for their kids’ games, concerts, plays, or carnivals. I’m friends with some white kids, and I’ve never met their fathers. That’s absolutely freaky. On the rez, you know every kid’s father, mother, grandparents, dog, cat, and shoe size. I mean, yeah, Indians are screwed up, but we’re really close to each other. We KNOW each other. Everybody knows everybody. But despite the fact that Reardan is a tiny town, people can still be strangers to each other. I’ve learned that white people, especially fathers, are good at hiding in plain sight. I mean, yeah, my dad would sometimes go on a drinking binge and be gone for a week, but those white dads can completely disappear without ever leaving the living room. They can just BLEND into their chairs. They become their chairs. So, okay, I’m not all goofy-eyed in love with white people, all right? Plenty of the old white guys still give me the stink eye just for being Indian. And a lot of them think I shouldn’t be in the school at all. I’m realistic, okay? I’ve thought about these things. And maybe I haven’t done enough thinking, but I’ve done enough to know that it’s better to live in Reardan than in Wellpinit. Maybe only slightly better.

• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  What kind of kid can just hand over forty bucks like that? “I’ll pay you back, man,” I said. “Whenever, man, just have a good time, all right?” He slapped me on the back again. He was always slapping me on the back. We walked back to the table together, finished our food, and Roger drove me back to the school. I told them my dad was going to pick me up outside the gym. “Dude,” Roger said. “It’s three in the morning.” “It’s okay,” I said. “My dad works the swing shift. He’s coming here straight from work.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, everything is cool.” “I’ll bring Penultimate home safely, man.” “Cool.” So Penelope and I got out of the car so we could have a private good-bye. She had laser eyes. “Roger told me he lent you some money,” she said. “Yeah,” I said. “I forgot my wallet.” Her laser eyes grew hotter. “Arnold?” “Yeah?” “Can I ask you something big?” “Yeah, I guess.” “Are you poor?” I couldn’t lie to her anymore. “Yes,” I said. “I’m poor.” I figured she was going to march out of my life right then. But she didn’t. Instead she kissed me. On the cheek. I guess poor guys don’t get kissed on the lips. I was going to yell at her for being shallow. But then I realized that she was being my friend. Being a really good friend, in fact. She was concerned about me. I’d been thinking about her breasts and she’d been thinking about my whole life. I was the shallow one. “Roger was the one who guessed you were poor,” she said. “Oh, great, now he’s going to tell everybody.” “He’s not going to tell anybody. Roger likes you. He’s a great guy. He’s like my big brother. He can be your friend, too.” That sounded pretty good to me. I needed friends more than I needed my lust-filled dreams. “Is your Dad really coming to pick you up?” she asked. “Yes,” I said. “Are you telling the truth?” “No,” I said. “How will you get home?” she asked. “Most nights, I walk home. I hitchhike. Somebody usually picks me up. I’ve only had to walk the whole way a few times.” She started to cry. FOR ME! Who knew that tears of sympathy could be so sexy? “Oh, my God, Arnold, you can’t do that,” she said. “I won’t let you do that. You’ll freeze. Roger will drive you home. He’ll be happy to drive you home.” I tried to stop her, but Penelope ran over to Roger’s car and told him the truth. And Roger, being of kind heart and generous pocket, and a little bit racist, drove me home that night. And he drove me home plenty of other nights, too. If you let people into your life a little bit, they can be pretty damn amazing.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "Ah, very well, Monsieur, I will do everything," I cried, throwing myself between SaintFlorent and our leader, who was still about to kill him. "Yes, I will do anything; spare him." "Let him live," said Coeur-de-fer, "but he has got to join us, that last clause is crucial, I can do nothing if he refuses to comply with it, my comrades would be against me." Surprised, the merchant, understanding nothing of this. consanguinity I was establishing, but observing his life saved if he were to consent to the proposal, saw no cause for a moment's hesitation. He was provided with meat and drink, as the men did not wish to leave the place until daybreak. "Therese," Coeur-de-fer said to me, "I remind you of your promise, but, since I am weary tonight, rest quietly beside Dubois, I will summon you toward dawn and if you are not prompt to come, taking this knave's life will be my revenge for your deceit." "Sleep, Monsieur, sleep well," I replied, "and believe that she whom you have filled with gratitude has no desire but to repay it." However, such was far from my design, for if ever I believed deception permitted, it was certainly upon this occasion. Our rascals, greatly overconfident, kept at their drinking and fell into slumber, leaving me entirely at liberty beside Dubois who, drunk like the others, soon closed her eyes too. Then seizing my opportunity as soon as the bandits surrounding us were overcome with sleep: "Monsieur," I said to the young Lyonnais, "the most atrocious catastrophe has thrown me against my will into the midst of these thieves, I detest both them and the fatal instant that brought me into their company. In truth, I have not the honor to be related to you; I employed the trick to save you and to escape, if you approve it, with you, from out of these scoundrels' clutches; the moment's propitious," I added, "let us be off; I notice your pocketbook, take it back, forget the money, it is in their pockets; we could not recover it without danger: come, Monsieur, let us quit this place. You see what I am doing for you, I put myself into your keeping; take pity on me; above all, be not more cruel than these men; deign to respect my honor, I entrust it to you, it is my unique treasure, they have not ravished it away from me."

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Among the barbarians in the West charitable institutions were introduced by missionaries in connection with convents, which were expected to exercise hospitality to strangers and give help to the poor. The Irish missionaries cared for the bodies as well as for the souls of the heathen to whom they preached the gospel, and founded "Hospitalia Scotorum." The Council of Orleans, 549, shows acquaintance with Xenodochia in the towns. There was a large one at Lyons. Chrodegang of Metz and Alcuin exhort the bishops to found institutions of charity, or at least to keep a guest-room for the care of the sick and the stranger. A Synod at Aix in 815 ordered that an infirmary should be built near the church and in every convent. The Capitularies of Charlemagne extend to charitable institutions the same privileges as to churches and monasteries, and order that "strangers, pilgrims, and paupers" be duly entertained according to the canons. The hospitals were under the immediate supervision of the bishop or a superintendent appointed by him. They were usually dedicated to the Holy Spirit, who was represented in the form of a dove in some conspicuous place of the building. They received donations and legacies, and were made the trustees of landed estates. The church of the middle ages was the largest property-holder, but her very wealth and prosperity became a source of temptation and corruption, which in the course of time loudly called for a reformation. After we have made all reasonable deduction for a large amount of selfish charity which looked to the donor rather than the recipient, and for an injudicious profusion of alms which encouraged pauperism instead of enabling the poor to help themselves by honest work, we still have left one of the noblest chapters in the history of morals to which no other religion can furnish a parallel. For the regular gratuitous distribution of grain to the poor heathen of Rome, who under Augustus rose to 200,000, and under the Antonines to 500,000, was made from the public treasury and dictated by selfish motives of state policy; it called forth no gratitude; it failed of its object, and proved, together with slavery and the gladiatorial shows for the amusement of the people, one of the chief demoralizing influences of the empire.375 Finally, we must not forget that the history of true Christian charity remains to a large part unwritten. Its power is indeed felt everywhere and every day; but it loves to do its work silently without a thought of the merit of reward. It follows human misery into all its lonely griefs with personal sympathy as well as material aid, and finds its own happiness in promoting the happiness of others. There is luxury in doing good for its own sake. "When thou doest alms," says the Lord, "let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth, that thine alms may be in secret: and thy Father who seeth in secret shall reward thee."376 Notes.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  The Hotel de Cluny, the Cluniac house in Paris, once occupied by the abbot, now serves as a museum of Mediaeval Art and Industry under the charge of the French government.603 The piety of Western Christendom owes a lasting debt to Cluny for the hymn "Jerusalem the Golden," taken from the de contemptu mundi written by Bernard of Cluny, a contemporary of Peter the Venerable and St. Bernard of Clairvaux.604 Jerusalem the Golden, With milk and honey blest, Beneath thy contemplation Sink heart and voice opprest. I know not, oh, I know not What social joys are there, What radiancy of glory, What light beyond compare. § 64. The Cistercians. Literature.—Exordium parvum ordinis Cisterciensiae, Migne, 166. Exordium magnum ord. Cisterc., by Conrad of Eberbach, d. 1220; Migne, 185.— Manriquez: Ann. ord. Cisterc., 4 vols. Lyons, 1642.—Mabillon: Ann. ord. St. Benedict, Paris, 1706–1708.—P. Guignard: Les monuments primitifs de la règle Cistercienne, publiés d’après les manuscripts de l’abbaye de Citeaux, Dijon, 1878, pp. cxii. 656.—Pierre le Nain: Essai de l’hist. de l’ordre de Citeaux, Paris, 1696.—J. H. Newman: The Cistercian Saints of England, London, 1844.—Franz Winter: Die Cistercienser des nord-östlichen Deutschlands bis zum Auftreten der Bettelorden, 3 vols. Gotha, 1868–1871.—L. Janauschek: Origines Cisterciensium, Vienna, 1877.—B. Albers: Untersuchungen zu den ältesten Mönchsgewohnheiten. Ein Beitrag zur Benedictinerordensregel der X-XIIten Jahrhunderte, Munich, 1905.—Sharpe: Architecture of the Cisterc., London, 1874.—Cisterc. Abbeys of Yorkshire, in "Fraser’s Mag.," September, 1876.—Dean Hodges: Fountains Abbey, The Story of a Mediaeval Monastery, London, 1904.—Deutsch: art. Cistercienser, in Herzog, IV. 116–127; art. Harding, in "Dict. Natl. Biogr.," XXIV. 333–335; the Biographies of St. Bernard. For extended Lit. see the work of Janauschek. With the Cluniac monks the Cistercians divide the distinction of being the most numerous and most useful monastic order of the Middle Ages,605 until the Mendicant Friars arose and distanced them both. They are Benedictines and claim the great name of St. Bernard, and for that reason are often called Bernardins in France. Two popes, Eugenius III. and Benedict XII., proceeded from the order. Europe owes it a large debt for its service among the half- barbarian peasants of Eastern France, Southern Germany, and especially in the provinces of Northeastern Germany. Its convents set an example of skilled industry in field and garden, in the training of the vine, the culture of fish, the cultivation of orchards, and in the care of cattle.606 The founder, Robert Molêsme, was born in Champagne, 1024, and after attempting in vain to introduce a more rigorous discipline in several Benedictine convents, retired to the woods of Molêsme and in 1098 settled with twenty companions on some swampy ground near Citeaux,607 twelve miles from Dijon. Here Eudes, duke of Burgundy,608 erected a building, which went at first by the name of the New Monastery, novum monasterium. Alberic, Robert’s successor, received for the new establishment the sanction of Pascal II., and placed it under the special care of the Virgin.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "You can have Dubois arrested," I tell him, "she's not far from here, I might even be able to point out the way.... Quite apart from all her other crimes, the wretch has taken both my clothing and the five louis you gave me." "O Therese," says Valbois, "there's no denying it, you are without doubt the unluckiest girl on earth, but, nevertheless, my honest creature, do you not perceive, amidst all these afflictions which beset you, a celestial arm that saves you? may that be unto you as one additional motive for perpetual virtuousness, for never do good deeds go unrewarded. We will not chase after Dubois, my reasons for letting her go in peace are the same you expounded yesterday, let us simply repair the harm she has done you: here, first of all, is the money she stole from you. In an hour's time I'll have a seamstress bring two complete outfits for you, and some linen. "But you have got to leave, Therese, you must leave this very day, Bertrand expects you, I've persuaded her to delay her departure a few hours more, join her...." "O virtuous young man," I cried, falling into my benefactor's arms, "may Heaven someday repay you for the kindness you have done me." "Ah, Therese," said Valbois, embracing me, "the happiness you wish me... I've enjoyed it already, 'tis presently mine, since your own is my doing... fare thee well." And thus it was I left Grenoble, Madame, and though I had not found in that city all the felicity I had imagined was awaiting me there, at least I had never met in another so many kindly and goodhearted people assembled to sympathize with or assuage my woes. My conductress and I were in a small covered carriage drawn by one horse we drove from within; we had with us, beside Madame Bertrand's baggage, her baby girl of fifteen months whom she was still suckling and for whom I straightway, to my vast misfortune, formed an attachment quite as deep as was that of the mother who had brought the infant into the world. She was, this Bertrand, an unattractive person, suspicious, gossipy, noisy, monotonous, and dull-witted.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  "Monsieur," said I, "if my behavior is really not without merit in your view, for my entire recompense I ask nothing more than to proceed to Lyon with you and to have you find me a place in some correct household, where my modesty will have no more to suffer." "You could do nothing better," said Saint-Florent, "and no one is in a better position than I to render this service; I have twenty relatives in the city," and the young trader then besought me to divulge my reasons for having left Paris where I had mentioned to him I was born. I told my story with equal amounts of confidence and ingenuousness. "Oh, if it is but that," said the young man, "I will be of use to you before we reach Lyon; fear not, Therese, your troubles are over; the affair will be hushed; you will not be sought after and, certainly, less in the asylum where I wish to leave you than in any other. A member of my family dwells near Bondy, a charming region not far from here; I am sure it will be a pleasure for her to have you with her; I will introduce you tomorrow." In my turn filled with gratitude, I approve a project which seems so well suited to me; we repose at Luzarches for the rest of the day and on the morrow, it is our plan, we will gain Bondy, but six leagues distant. "The weather is fine," Saint-Florent says to me, "trust me, Therese; it will be most enjoyable to go afoot; we will reach my relative's estate, will tell of our adventure, and this manner of arriving, I should think, will make you appear in a still more interesting light." Having not the faintest suspicion of this monster's designs, and far from imagining that I was to be less safe with him than I had been when in the infamous company I had left, I agree to everything; we dine together; he not so much as murmurs when for the night I take a chamber separate from his, and after having waited until the warmest part of the day is past, certain of what he tells me, that four or five hours will suffice to bring us to his relative's, we leave Luzarches and strike out on foot for Bondy.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  I am then not completely unfortunate because there are some who have more to complain of than I.... Ah! am I not much less so than the unlucky ones I left in that den of iniquity and vice from which God's kindness caused me to emerge as if by some sort of miracle?... And full of gratitude I threw myself upon my knees, raised my eyes, and fixing the sun, for it seemed to me the Divinity's most splendid achievement, the one which best manifests His greatness, I was drawing from that Star's sublimity new motives for prayer and good works when all of a sudden I felt myself seized by two men who, having cast something over my head to prevent me from seeing and crying out, bound me like a criminal and dragged me away without uttering a word. And thus had we walked for nearly two hours during which I knew not whither my escorts were taking me when one of them, hearing me gasp for air, proposed to his comrade that I be freed of the sack covering my head; he agreed, I drank in fresh air and observed that we were in the midst of a forest through which we were traveling along a fairly broad although little frequented road. A thousand dark ideas rushed straightway into my mind. I feared I was being led back to their odious monastery. "Ah," I say to one of my guides, "ah Monsieur, will you tell me where I am being conducted? May I not ask what you intend to do with me ?" "Be at ease, my child," the man replied, "and do not let the precautions we are obliged to take cause you any fright; we are leading you to a good master; weighty considerations engage him to procure a maid for his wife by means of this mysterious process, but never fear, you will find yourself well off." "Alas! Messieurs," I answered, "if 'tis my welfare for which you labor it is to no purpose I am constrained; I am a poor orphan, no doubt much to be commiserated; I ask for nothing but a place and since you are giving me one, I have no cause to run away, do I ?" "She's right," said one of my escorts, "let's make her more comfortable; untie everything but her hands."

• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  But actually he rode horses as a way to build up his muscles and his confidence. And one day as he was riding, the horse trainer said that my son was “borrowing the strength of the horse until he could find his own.” So I’m not calling Randy a horse here, but I think that I borrowed his strength. I think I absolutely needed to borrow his strength in Wellpinit, on the reservation, until I found my own strength off the reservation. And you guys mostly know what happened in high school. I became a basketball star in Reardan. Eventually, Randy left Wellpinit a couple years after I did. He went back to school in Springdale and became a basketball star, too. We never played each other in high school, though, because his teams were terrible and my teams were good. Ha! I had to talk trash one more time. You see, at Reardan, I played with white boys who were good at basketball. At Springdale, Randy played with white boys who weren’t good. Ha! Randy and I became friendly again over the years, mostly because of basketball. In all-star high school tournaments. And then in all-Indian tournaments after high school. I remember when I hit two clutch free throws to beat his team in an all-Indian tournament in Springdale. He was so mad at losing but so happy that I’d hit the game winner. Laughing, he picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, and ran me around the gym. Then he carried me outside, through the gym doors, and threw me into a snowbank. I saw him only once or twice when we were in college. One night, during my last semester at Washington State University, I boozed my way to the reservation, to Wellpinit. I was depressed. And struggling with my bipolar mental illness. I didn’t know I was bipolar. I wouldn’t be officially diagnosed for twenty more years. I was getting drunk every weekend. I was falling apart. I don’t remember how Randy and I ended up together that night. But we drove drunk around the reservation for hours and crashed five or six or eight parties. It’s all a blur. At some point, in somebody’s house on the rez, I stood and started reciting my poems from memory. In those early days, I could recite all of my poems by heart. So there I was, drunkenly reciting my poems about life on the reservation while standing in a house on my reservation. I would publish my first book, The Business of Fancydancing, eighteen months later. And my future wife, the love of my life, would attend my first reading of that book in Spokane a few weeks after that. I also got sober in March 2001 and have been sober ever since.

• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  I hitchhike. Somebody usually picks me up. I’ve only had to walk the whole way a few times.” She started to cry. FOR ME! Who knew that tears of sympathy could be so sexy? “Oh, my God, Arnold, you can’t do that,” she said. “I won’t let you do that. You’ll freeze. Roger will drive you home. He’ll be happy to drive you home.” I tried to stop her, but Penelope ran over to Roger’s car and told him the truth. And Roger, being of kind heart and generous pocket, and a little bit racist, drove me home that night. And he drove me home plenty of other nights, too. If you let people into your life a little bit, they can be pretty damn amazing. Don’t Trust Your Computer Today at school, I was really missing Rowdy, so I walked over to the computer lab, took a digital photo of my smiling face, and e-mailed it to him. A few minutes later, he e-mailed me a digital photo of his bare ass. I don’t know when he snapped that pic. It made me laugh. And it made me depressed, too. Rowdy could be so crazy-funny-disgusting. The Reardan kids were so worried about grades and sports and THEIR FUTURES that they sometimes acted like repressed middle-aged business dudes with cell phones stuck in their small intestines. Rowdy was the opposite of repressed. He was exactly the kind of kid who would e-mail his bare ass (and bare everything else) to the world. “Hey,” Gordy said. “Is that somebody’s posterior?” Posterior! Did he just say “posterior”? “Gordy, my man,” I said. “That is most definitely NOT a posterior. That is a stinky ass. You can smell the thing, even through the computer.” “Whose butt is that?” he asked. “Ah, it’s my best friend, Rowdy. Well, he used to be my best friend. He hates me now.” “How come he hates you?” he asked. “Because I left the rez,” I said. “But you still live there, don’t you? You’re just going to school here.” “I know, I know, but some Indians think you have to act white to make your life better. Some Indians think you become white if you try to make your life better, if you become successful.” “If that were true, then wouldn’t all white people be successful?” Man, Gordy was smart. I wished I could take him to the rez and let him educate Rowdy.

• From The History of Christianity: From the Disciples to the Dawn of the Reformation (2012)

  The targets of the reformers were consistent: Scholastic o theology, the power of the papacy, the complications of the liturgy and canon law, the institution of monasticism and religious life generally, and the emphasis on externals rather than internal realities, on “works” rather than the simple response of the heart. • The justice of the reformer’s charges is difficult to deny, for the changes they point to are obvious to anyone with a historical sense. Yet the fundamental charge that Christianity had lost its “essence” in the time leading up to the Reformation may be much too strong. The problem with a counter-assertion, however, is the difficulty o of substantiating it; can it be shown that ordinary Christians lived lives fully consonant with the Jesus of the Gospels, the teaching of Paul, and the guidance of the Holy Spirit? Did the elaboration or even the corruption of public forms also o corrupt in a fundamental way those practices of piety, charity, generous devotion, and quiet witness of a good life that had always, from the 1st to the 16th centuries, been the proclaimed goal of the Christian message? Here, the evidence of the saints must count for something. o By “saints,” we mean others than those officially recognized by the church, just as we must include others than the visible historical players. We must include those who lived lives of patient endurance, o quiet service, and deep charity in accordance with the gospel and, by so living, communicated something of the gospel’s power from one generation to the next. It does not matter whether they were monk or mendicant, pilgrim or poet. What matters is the character of their lives. In the final analysis, although it would make for dull reading o because it would be so lacking in high adventure or political 263 264 noigileR gnitpada-revE ehT :63 erutceL intrigue, perhaps the most authentic history of Christianity is, after all, the history of the saints. Perhaps there were not so many of such folk as one would like o in all these long years, but there were surely enough, for it must be said that without some such spark of life being transmitted from generation to generation, there would not have been any history at all to speak of. Suggested Reading Bass, A People’s History of Christianity. Pelikan, Jesus through the Ages. Questions to Consider 1. How does the question concerning the “essence” of Christianity force us to recognize the limits of historical knowledge? 2. How does the post-Constantinian era alter the rules of the game within which Christianity was played for most of its history?

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  He listened to me; convinced of my good faith and the authenticity of my wretched plight, he deigned to give my case a little more attention than his cohorts saw fit to lavish upon it.... O great man, 'tis to thee I owe an homage: a miserable creature's gratitude would not sit onerously with thee and the tribute she offers thee, by publishing abroad thy goodness of heart, will always be her sweetest joy. Monsieur S*** himself became my advocate; my testimony was heard, and his male eloquence illumined the mind of the court. The general depositions of the false coiners they were going to execute fortified the zeal of the man who had the kindness to take an interest in me: I was declared an unwilling party to crime, innocent, and fully acquitted of all charges, was set at complete liberty to become what I wished; to those services my protector added a collection he had taken for my relief, and it totaled more than fifty louis; I began to see a dawning of happiness at last; my presentiments seemed finally about to be realized and I thought I had reached an end of my tribulations when it pleased Providence to convince me they were still far from their definitive cessation. Upon emerging from jail I took up lodgings at an inn facing the Isere bridge on the side of the faubourgs where, I had been assured, I might find proper quarters. My plan, suggested by the advice of Monsieur S***, was to stay there awhile in order to try to find a situation in the town; in the event the letters of recommendation Monsieur S*** had so kindly given me produced no results, I was to return to Lyon. On the second day I was dining at my inn - -'twas what is called table d'hote Ä when I noticed I was being closely scrutinized by a tall, very handsomely attired woman who went under a baroness' title; upon examining her in my turn, I believed I recognized her; we both rose and approached each other, we embraced like two people who once knew each other but cannot remember under what circumstances. Then the baroness drew me aside.

• From The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion (1967)

  Luckmann. Especially chapters 1 and 2 of the present book are a direct application of the same theoretical perspective in the sociology of knowledge to the phenomenon of religion. It would have been very tedious to make cross references to The Social Construction of Reality throughout the present book, so I will limit myself to this general reference here. It goes without saying that Luckmann is in no way to be held responsible for what follows. While there may be honor among thieves as well as among sociologists of knowledge, some crimes are committed together and some separately. It seems that, whenever I find the need to make personal acknowledgments in connection with things I have done in recent years, I always end up mentioning more or less the same people. This is a little boring, but at the same time serves to dispel anomic feelings. In anything that has to do with the sociology of religion I owe the profoundest gratitude to my teacher Carl Mayer. My debt to Thomas Luckmann far exceeds the limits of the particular undertakings that have emerged in print under both our names. Conversations with Brigitte Berger and Hansfried Kellner about these and related matters have left their imprint on my thinking. My communication with denizens of the realm of theology has, much to my regret, shrunk in recent years. But I would like to mention James Gustafson and Siegfried von Kortzfleisch as two theologians in whom I have always found an unusual openness to sociological thinking for which I have been grateful on more than one occasion. P.L.B. New York, Fall 1966 6 Contents PREFACE I. SYSTEMATIC ELEMENTS 1. Religion and World-Construction 2. Religion and World-Maintenance 3. The Problem of Theodicy 4. Religion and Alienation II. HISTORICAL ELEMENTS 5. The Process of Secularization 6. Secularization and the Problem of Plausibility 7. Secularization and the Problem of Legitimation APPENDICES Appendix I. Sociological Definitions of Religion Appendix II. Sociological and Theological Perspectives NOTES SUBJECT INDEX INDEX OF NAMES 7 I Systematic Elements 8

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  " ’Honored Lords,—I thank you exceedingly for having conferred so many honors on one who plainly deserved nothing of the kind, and for having so often borne patiently with my very numerous infirmities. This I have always regarded as the strongest proof of your singular good-will toward me. And though in the discharge of my duty I have had various battles to fight, and various insults to endure, because to these every man, even the most excellent, must be subjected, I know and acknowledge that none of these things happened through your fault; and I earnestly entreat you that if, in anything, I have not done as I ought, you will attribute it to the want of ability rather than of will; for I can truly declare that I have sincerely studied the interest of your Republic. Though I have not discharged my duty fully, I have always, to the best of my ability, consulted for the public good; and did I not acknowledge that the Lord, on His part, hath sometimes made my labors profitable, I should lay myself open to a charge of dissimulation. But this I beg of you, again and again, that you will be pleased to excuse me for having performed so little in public and in private, compared with what I ought to have done. I also certainly acknowledge, that on another account also I am highly indebted to you, viz. your having borne patiently with my vehemence, which was sometimes carried to excess; my sins, in this respect, I trust, have been pardoned by God also. But in regard to the doctrine which I have delivered in your hearing, I declare that the Word of God, intrusted to me, I have taught, not rashly nor uncertainly, but purely and sincerely; as well knowing that His wrath was otherwise impending on my head, as I am certain that my labors in teaching were not displeasing to Him. And this I testify the more willingly before God, and before you all, because I have no doubt whatever that Satan, according to his wont, will stir up wicked, fickle, and giddy men, to corrupt the pure doctrine which you have heard of me!

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  The "Confessions," which he wrote in the forty-sixth year of his life, still burning in the ardor of his first love, are full of the fire and unction of the Holy Ghost. They are a sublime effusion, in which Augustine, like David in the fifty-first Psalm, confesses to God, in view of his own and of succeeding generations, without reserve the sins of his youth; and they are at the same time a hymn of praise to the grace of God, which led him out of darkness into light, and called him to service in the kingdom of Christ.2144 Here we see the great church teacher of all times "prostrate in the dust, conversing with God, basking in his love; his readers hovering before him only as a shadow." He puts away from himself all honor, all greatness, all beauty, and lays them gratefully at the feet of the All-merciful. The reader feels on every hand that Christianity is no dream nor illusion, but truth and life, and he is carried along in adoration of the wonderful grace of God. Aurelius Augustinus, born on the 13th of November, 354,2145 at Tagaste, an unimportant village of the fertile province Numidia in North Africa, not far from Hippo Regius, inherited from his heathen father, Patricius,2146 a passionate sensibility, from his Christian mother, Monica (one of the noblest women in the history of Christianity, of a highly intellectual and spiritual cast, of fervent piety, most tender affection, and all-conquering love), the deep yearning towards God so grandly expressed in his sentence: "Thou hast made us for Thee, and our heart is restless till it rests in Thee."2147 This yearning, and his reverence for the sweet and holy name of Jesus, though crowded into the background, attended him in his studies at the schools of Madaura and Carthage, on his journeys to Rome and Milan, and on his tedious wanderings through the labyrinth of carnal pleasures, Manichaean mock-wisdom, Academic skepticism, and Platonic idealism; till at last the prayers of his mother, the sermons of Ambrose, the biography of St. Anthony, and, above all, the Epistles of Paul, as so many instruments in the hand of the Holy Ghost, wrought in the man of three and thirty years that wonderful change which made him an incalculable blessing to the whole Christian world, and brought even the sins and errors of his youth into the service of the truth.2148

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  Cole should come in, I found in one of my pockets a purse of guineas, which he had slipt there; and just as I was musing on a liberality I had certainly not expected, Mrs. Cole came in, to whom I immediately communicated the present, and naturally offered her whatever share she pleased: but assuring me that the gentleman had very nobly rewarded her, she would on no terms, no entreaties, no shape I could put it in, receive any part of it. Her denial, she observed, was no affectation of grimace, and proceeded to read me such admirable lessons on the economy of my person and my purse, as I became amply paid for my general attention and conformity to in the course of my acquaintance with the town. After which, changing the discourse, she fell on the pleasures of the preceding night, where I learned, without much surprise, as I began to enter on her character, that she had seen every thing that had passed, from a convenient place managed solely for that purpose, and of which she readily made me the confidante. She had scarce finished this, when the little troop of love girls, my companions, broke in, and renewed their compliments and caresses. I observed with pleasure, that the fatigues and exercises of the night had not usurped in the least on the life of their complexion, or the freshness of their bloom: this I found, by their confession, was owing to the management and advice of our rare directress. They went down then to figure it, as usual, in the shop; whilst I repaired to my lodging, where I employed myself till I returned to dinner at Mrs. Cole’s.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  It is, moreover, unmerited. Gratia would be no gratia if it were not gratuita, gratis data.1846 As man without grace can do nothing good, he is, of course, incapable of deserving grace; for, to deserve grace, he must do something good. "What merits could we have, while as yet we did not love God? That the love with which we should love might be created, we have been loved, while as yet we had not that love. Never should we have found strength to love God, except as we received such a love from Him who had loved us before, and because He had loved us before. And, without such a love, what good could we do? Or, how could we not do good, with such a love?" "The Holy Spirit breathes where He will, and does not follow merits, but Himself produces the merits!1847 Grace, therefore, is not bestowed on man because he already believes, but that he may believe; not because he has deserved it by good works, but that he may deserve good works." Pelagius reverses the natural relation by making the cause the effect, and the effect the cause. The ground of our salvation can only be found in God Himself, if He is to remain immutable. Augustine appeals to examples of pardoned sinners, "where not only no good deserts, but even evil deserts, had preceded." Thus the apostle Paul, "averse to the faith, which he wasted, and vehemently inflamed against it, was suddenly converted to that faith by the prevailing power of grace, and that in such wise that he was changed not only from an enemy to a friend, but from a persecutor to a sufferer of persecution for the sake of the faith he had once destroyed. For to him it was given by Christ, not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for his sake." He also points to children, who without will, and therefore without voluntary merit preceding, are through holy baptism incorporated in the kingdom of grace.1848 His own experience, finally, afforded him an argument, to him irrefutable, for the free, undeserved compassion of God. And if in other passages he speaks of merits, he means good works which the Holy Ghost effects in man, and which God graciously rewards, so that eternal life is grace for grace. "If all thy merits are gifts of God, God crowns thy merits not as thy merits, but as the gifts of his grace."1849

• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  “I shouldn’t have played you. I should have canceled the whole game. It’s my fault.” “I wanted to play. I wanted to win.” “It’s just a game,” he said. “It’s not worth all this.” But he was lying. He was just saying what he thought he was supposed to say. Of course, it was not just a game. Every game is important. Every game is serious. “Coach,” I said. “I would walk out of this hospital and walk all the way back to Wellpinit to play them right now if I could.” Coach smiled. “Vince Lombardi used to say something I like,” he said. “It’s not whether you win or lose,” I said. “It’s how you play the game.” “No, but I like that one,” Coach said. “But Lombardi didn’t mean it. Of course, it’s better to win.” We laughed. “No, I like this other one more,” Coach said. “The quality of a man’s life is in direct proportion to his commitment to excellence, regardless of his chosen field of endeavor.” “That’s a good one.” “It’s perfect for you. I’ve never met anybody as committed as you.” “Thanks, Coach.” “You’re welcome. Okay, kid, you take care of your head. I’m going to get out of here so you can sleep.” “Oh, I’m not supposed to sleep. They want to keep me awake to monitor my head. Make sure I don’t have some hidden damage or something.” “Oh, okay,” Coach said. “Well, how about I stay and keep you company, then?” “Wow, that would be great.” So Coach and I sat awake all night. We told each other many stories. But I never repeat those stories. That night belongs to just me and my coach. And a Partridge in a Pear Tree [image file=image_rsrc4RJ.jpg] When the holidays rolled around, we didn’t have any money for presents, so Dad did what he always does when we don’t have enough money. He took what little money we did have and ran away to get drunk. He left on Christmas Eve and came back on January 2. With an epic hangover, he just lay on his bed for hours. “Hey, Dad,” I said. “Hey, kid,” he said. “I’m sorry about Christmas.” “It’s okay,” I said. But it wasn’t okay. It was about as far from okay as you can get. If okay was the earth, then I was standing on Jupiter. I don’t know why I said it was okay. For some reason, I was protecting the feelings of the man who had broken my heart yet again. Jeez, I’d just won the Silver Medal in the Children of Alcoholics Olympics. “I got you something,” he said. “What?” “It’s in my boot.” I picked up one of his cowboy boots. “No, the other one,” he said. “Inside, under that foot-pad thing.” I picked up the other boot and dug inside. Man, that thing smelled like booze and fear and failure. I found a wrinkled and damp five dollar bill. “Merry Christmas,” he said. Wow.

• From The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007)

  JW: But I think that’s the universal quality of books written for teens up to young adults, is that idea…the universal. I remember reading A Wrinkle in Time and you know, my dad wasn’t a professor, but you identify with those kids. You identify with Charlie going into the chocolate factory. You become that character, and I think that’s what that book’s done so amazingly. I spoke at an alternative school, and the first question I get from this kid is, “Do you know Sherman Alexie?” “No, I never met him.” “That’s the only book I ever read; I love that book.” SA: [Laughs] JW: Again, here’s a kid with a tough childhood. That has to be a recurring theme you hear over the last ten years. SA: I mean, books saved me, so I think True Diary might be part of the emergency kit for a lot of students. One of the things I hear, too, now, is, “This book led me to become a writer. I’m in this MFA program because of Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian.” JW: Do you remember when Arnold Spirit first, when that voice first…Books come in voices, and the voice here is so strong, I had to think that the voice is what popped in your head. SA: Well, it’s autobiographical, of course, but he’s a much more confident person than I was at the same age. And he’s really also kinder. JW: It’s funny, as I read it—you know, you had become a father—I thought you were looking at fatherhood through your boys’ eyes, both the kindness and the savvy of your two sons. SA: My sons are urban Indians, they are very much urban kids so they have urban skills and they’re also members of this generation who are much more self-aware and aware of the world, and they are kinder. My sons at the same age are far kinder than I was, partly because their survival is assured right now, and mine wasn’t. So I think Arnold Spirit Jr. has less of the cannibalistic instincts I did. It’s less Donner Party for him than it was for me. JW: I think sometimes my kids doubt the Lord of the Flies nature of the stories I tell. I mean, the bus stop was as horrifying a place as could exist. I mean, it was Dante’s fourth circle. SA: [Laughs] The public school bus stop. Yeah. JW: It is hard to get across. But it seems like the voice, while autobiographical, also does seem of itself. You have no doubt of who Junior is in this book. He seems fully realized from the beginning.

• From Best Erotica & Sexual Deviance Narratives Ever Written (2024)

  It is thus by confounding every sentiment, it is by continually refusing to analyze a single one of them that these people are able to linger in total darkness about them all and deprive themselves of every pleasurable enjoyment." "Ah, Monsieur," I interrupted with great emotion, "may there be one any sweeter than the succoring of misfortune? Leaving aside the dread lest someday one have to endure suffering oneself, is there any more substantial satisfaction than that to be had from obliging others?... from relishing gratitude's tearful thanks, from partaking of the well-being you have just distributed like manna to the downtrodden who, your own fellow creatures, nevertheless want those things which you take airily for granted; oh! to hear them sing your praise and call you their father, to restore serenity to brows clouded by failure, destitution, and despair; no, Monsieur, not one of this world's lewd pleasures can equal this: it is that of the Divinity Himself, and the happiness He promises to those who on earth will serve Him, is naught other than the possibility to behold or make happy creatures in Heaven. All virtues stem directly from that one, Monsieur; one is a better father, a better son, a better husband when one knows the charm of alleviating misfortune's lot.