Tenderness

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.

Page 76 of 145 · 20 per page

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (de Serm. Dom. lib. 1. c. 20.) He says not, To him that seeketh give all things, but give what you justly and honestly can, that is, what as far as man can know or believe, neither hurts you, nor another: and if thou hast justly refused any one, the justice must be declared to him, (so as not to send him away empty,) sometimes thou wilt confer even a greater boon when thou hast corrected him who seeks what he ought not. CHRYSOSTOM. Herein however we do not lightly err, when not only we give not to those who seek, but also blame them? Why (you say) does he not work, why is the idle man fed? Tell me, dost thou then possess by labour? but still if thou workest, dost thou work for this, that thou shouldest blame another? For a single loaf and coat dost thou call a man covetous? Thou givest nothing, make then no reproaches. Why dost thou neither take pity thyself, and dissuadest those who would? If we spend upon all indifferently, we shall always have compassion: for because Abraham entertains all, he also entertains angels. For if a man is a homicide and a robber, does he not, thinkest thou, deserve to have bread? Let us not then be severe censors of others, lest we too be strictly judged. It follows, And of him that taketh away thy goods, ask them not again. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. 10. in 1 Cor.) Every thing we have we receive from God. But when we speak of “mine and thine,” they are only bare words. For if you assert a house to be yours, you have uttered an expression which wants the substance of reality. For both the air, the soil, and the moisture, are the Creator’s. Thou again art he who has built the house; but although the use is thine, it is doubtful, not only because of death, but also on account of the issues of things. Thy soul is not thy own possession, and will be reckoned to thee in like manner as all thy goods. God wishes those things to be thine which are entrusted to thee for thy brethren, and they will be thine if thou hast dispensed them for others. But if thou hast spent richly upon thyself what things are thine, they are now become another’s. But through a wicked desire of wealth men strive together in a state contrary to Christ’s words, And of him that taketh away thy goods, ask them not again.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  1. St. John says (3 John), “Dearly beloved, do faithfully whatever you do for the brethrens and for strangers.” He immediately points out to whom he refers by saying: “For his name they went out” (i.e., “ leaving their own possessions,” Gloas). And again, “We, therefore, ought to receive such.” The Gloss here remarks: “John had renounced all things, but he speaks of himself as belonging to the number of the rich, in order to make those whom he addresses more prompt and more ready in helping the needy.” Hence it is praiseworthy to give alms to those who, for the love of Christ, live without possessions of their own. 2. We read in Matt. x. 41, “He who receives a just man in the name of a just man shall receive the reward of a just man.” The Gloss remarks that “on this account he is called just.” The Gloss also adds, “Someone may therefore say: ‘We shall thus receive false prophets, and the traitor Judas.’ But the Lord, foreseeing this objection, says not that persons are to be received but their names; and that he who receives another shall not be deprived of a reward on account of the unworthiness of the object of his charity.” Hence we must conclude that alms are to be given to those who bear, even though unjustly, the name of sanctity. 3. St. Paul (Rom. xv.) praises the faithful of Macedonia and Achaia for their resolution to make a collection for the poor among the saints. The Gloss remarks hereon: “These men devoted themselves wholly to the Divine service, heeding no worldly matters, and caring only to set an example of holy living to those who believed.” The Achaians and Macedonians had made a collection for these good men; and St. Paul invites the Romans to do the same. Hence we see that alms may be given to the poor of Christ. 4. The Gloss says, commenting on the words (2 Cor. vii), “let your abundance supply their want,” i.e., “the want of those who have renounced all earthly things.” These words are a further confirmation of the opinion which we have already expressed. 5. Again, on the words, “But you, brethren, be not weary of well doing” (1 Thes. iii. 14), the Gloss observes that “‘well doing’ here signifies doing good to the poor.” Another commentary says: “Because, although they work, they are still in need of certain things. Thus, St. Paul warns the faithful that if they have the means of supplying the necessities of the servants of God, they should not be remiss in so doing.” A man cannot be blamed for generosity; he, only, deserves a rebuke who, while able to work, prefers to lead an idle life. Hence it is praiseworthy to give alms to the servants of God, whether they work or not, even though they may be to. blame for not working.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  2. Again, mercy is the mitigation of justice. But God cannot rescind what his justice requires, for it is said in II Tim. 2:13: “ If we believe not, yet he abideth faithful: for he cannot deny himself, ” and God would deny himself if he were to deny his own words, as the gloss says. We cannot therefore attribute mercy to him. On the other hand: it is said in Ps. 111:4: “ the Lord is gracious, and full of compassion. ” I answer: mercy is pre-eminently attributable to God, albeit as an effect, not as the affection of a passion. In evidence of this we may reflect that one is said to be merciful when one has misery in one ’ s heart, grieving for the misery of another as if it were one ’ s own, and consequently striving to dispel it as if it were one ’ s own. This is the effect of mercy. God does not grieve over the misery of another, but he pre-eminently does dispel the misery of another, whatever be the defect for which this word may stand. Now defects are remedied only by the perfection of some goodness, and the first origin of goodness is God, as we said in Q. 6, Art. 4. But we must bear in mind that God bestows perfections on things not only through his goodness, but in a different sense also through his justice, generosity, and mercy. Considered absolutely, it is through his goodness that God bestows a perfection (Art. 2). Yet in so far as God bestows perfections on things in accordance with their status, he bestows them through justice. In so far as he bestows them purely by his goodness, and not because things are useful to him, he bestows them through liberality. In so far as the perfections which God bestows dispel every defect, he bestows them in mercy. On the first point: this objection argues from the manner in which mercy affects a passion. On the second point: when God acts mercifully he does not do what is contrary to his justice, but does more than his justice requires, as it were like one who gives two hundred denarii to a person to whom he owes one hundred. Such a one acts with liberality or with mercy, without denying justice. So also does one who forgives an offence against himself. He who forgives something in a sense gives it. Thus the apostle calls forgiveness a gift in Eph. 4:32: “ forgiving one another, even as God for Christ ’ s sake hath forgiven you. ” It is plain from this that mercy does not destroy justice, but is a fulfilment of it. As James says: “ mercy rejoiceth against judgment. ” ARTICLE FOUR

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  II. On the second head it is to be noted, four kinds of compassion are expressed which Christ manifested towards sinners. (1) Was the taking of human nature: “A certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was; and when He saw him he had compassion on him,” Gloss. The Samaritan is Christ, who was made man for our sakes, that He might deliver us from this present life. (2) Was the institution of the Sacraments for the salvation of sinners: “and bound up his wounds,” Gloss. In baptism: “He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds,” Psalm 147:3. (3) Was the infusion of the grace of the Holy Spirit: “pouring in oil,” Gloss. The charisma of the Holy Spirit: “but the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in My name, He shall teach you all things.… whatsoever I have said unto you,” S. John 14:26. “And of His fulness have all we received, and grace for grace. For the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ,” S. John 1:16, 17. (4) In enduring the bitterness of His passion for sinners: “and set Him on His own beast.” Gloss. The beast is His flesh, in which He places the wounded, because He “bare our sins in His own Body on the tree,” 1 S. Peter 2:24. III. On the third head it is to be noted, that we ought to show a four-fold compassion to the penitent. (1) In succouring him: “Bear ye one another’s burdens,” &c. Gal. 6:2. (2) In praying for him: “If any man see his brother sin a sin which is not unto death, he shall ask, and he shall give him life for them that sin not unto death. There is a sin unto death: I do not say that he shall pray for it,” 1 S. John 5:16. “Pray one for another, that ye may be healed,” S. James 5:16. (3) In instructing him: “If a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual restore such an one in the spirit of meekness,” Gal. 6:1. “Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert him, let him know,” &c., S. James 5:19, 20. “If thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone,” S. Matt. 18:15. (4) In the gift of pardon: “Then came Peter to Him and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?.… Until seventy times seven,” S. Matt. 18:21, 22. “Reproach not a man that turneth from sin,” i.e., turning from sin to repentance; “But remember that we are all worthy of punishment,” Ecclus. 8:5. HOMILY XXVII FOUR FRUITS OF THE SPIRIT FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY.—(FROM THE EPISTLE)“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith.”—Gal. 5:22.

• From Confessions of a Mask (1958)

  Could it have been because of laziness? I kept asking myself. All of my earnestness toward life as a whole arose out of this suspicion that I was simply lazy. And in the end this earnestness spent itself in defending myself against the charge of laziness on this one point, insuring that my laziness could remain laziness still.This earnestness led me in the first place to resolve to gather together all my memories concerning women, starting back at the very beginning. What an extremely meager collection it turned out to be! I remembered one incident that had taken place when I was about thirteen or fourteen. It was the day of my father's transfer to Osaka, and we had all gone to Tokyo Station to see him off. Afterwards, a number of relatives had returned to the house with us. Among them was my second cousin Sumiko, an unmarried girl of about twenty. Sumiko's front teeth protruded the tiniest bit. They were exceedingly white and beautiful teeth, and when she laughed they gleamed so brightly that one wondered whether she was not laughing on purpose to show them off. Their slight appearance of prominence added a subtle attractiveness to her smile; in her case the defect of protruding teeth was like a pinch of spice dropped into the harmonious grace and beauty of her face and figure, emphasizing the harmony and adding an accent of flavor to the beauty. If the word "love" is not applicable, at least I "liked" this cousin. Ever since childhood I had enjoyed watching her from a distance. I would sit beside her for hours as she embroidered, doing nothing but stare at her vacantly. After a time my aunts went into an inner room, leaving Sumiko and me alone in the parlor. We remained just as we were, seated side by side on a sofa, saying nothing. Our heads were still buzzing with the bustle of the station platform. I felt unusually weary. "Oh, I'm tired," she said, giving a little yawn. She lifted her white hand wearily and tapped her mouth lightly several times with her white fingers, as though performing some superstitious ritual. "Aren't you tired too, Kochan?" For some unknown reason, as she said this she covered her face with both sleeves of her kimono and buried it with a plop upon my thigh. Then, rolling her cheek slowly against my trousers, she turned her face up and remained motionless for a time. The trousers of my uniform trembled at the honor of serving as her pillow. The fragrance of her perfume and powder confused me. I looked upon her unmoving profile as she lay there with her tired, clear eyes wide open; I was at a loss. . . . That is all that happened.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Saladin answered that this should without fail be accomplished and accordingly, on the morrow, meaning to send him away that same night, he let make, in a great hall of his palace, a very goodly and rich bed of mattresses, all, according to their usance, of velvet and cloth of gold and caused lay thereon a counterpoint curiously wrought in various figures with great pearls and jewels of great price (the which here in Italy was after esteemed an inestimable treasure) and two pillows such as sorted with a bed of that fashion. This done, he bade invest Messer Torello, who was presently well and strong again, in a gown of the Saracen fashion, the richest and goodliest thing that had ever been seen of any, and wind about his head, after their guise, one of his longest turban-cloths.[477] Then, it growing late, he betook himself with many of his barons to the chamber where Messer Torello was and seating himself, well nigh weeping, by his side, bespoke him thus; 'Messer Torello, the hour draweth near that is to sunder me from you, and since I may not bear you company nor cause you to be accompanied, by reason of the nature of the journey you have to make, which suffereth it not, needs must I take leave of you here in this chamber, to which end I am come hither. Wherefore, ere I commend you to God, I conjure you, by that love and that friendship that is between us, that you remember you of me and if it be possible, ere our times come to an end, that, whenas you have ordered your affairs in Lombardy, you come at the least once to see me, to the end that, what while I am cheered by your sight, I may then supply the default which needs must I presently commit by reason of your haste; and against that betide, let it not irk you to visit me with letters and require me of such things as shall please you; for that of a surety I will more gladly do them for you than for any man alive.' [Footnote 477: It may be well to remind the European reader that the turban consists of two parts, _i.e._ a skull-cap and a linen cloth, which is wound round it in various folds and shapes, to form the well-known Eastern head-dress.]

• From Fragments (7)

  With thy delicate hands shoots of anise plait; For a flower-covered maid by the blessed Graces Is favored, but those without garlands they hate. TO AN UNKNOWN FRIEND (21) Gently, gently mayest thou rest On thy dear companion's breast. IN THE BLOOM OF HER YOUTH , (22) She now has reached her youthful bloom; Her time for plaiting wreaths has come. 27 Lyric SottffS of the Greeks A GIFTED PUPIL (23) Of all the maidens fair for whom the sun doth rise, Now and in times to come not one will be so wise. A LOST PUPIL (24) Far more than I 'tis some one else Whose love thy heart at present thrills. (25) But utterly Forget'st thou me. BRIDAL SONGS THE BRIDEGROOM (26) Lift high the roof to give him room — Hymenaeus. Ye workmen, lift again — Hymenaeus. Like mighty Ares now doth come The bridegroom taller than tall men. 28 Sappho His rivals he outstrips with ease, Like Lesbian bards those of all Greece. (28) To what, dear bridegroom, should I most rightly thee compare? I thee would best compare to a slender sapling fair. THE BRIDE (29) Like the sweet apple which reddens, far up on the high tree-top growing. Up on the loftiest branch, scarce itself to the gath- erers showing — They rathermore could not reach it, e'en though of it easily knowing. (30) Thy form, thy eyes are full of grace. Thy honey-sweet, thy lovely face. Of Aphrodite's love a token. Hath to me of her favor spoken. (31) In all the world thou wouldst ne'er discover Another maid like this, O lover. 29 Lyric Songs of the Greeks (32) " Does it appear to thee That I still a maid would be? " MAIDENHOOD (33) " O maidenhood ! O maidenhood ! where hast thou gone from me?" " I nevermore, I nevermore, shall e'er come back to thee." THE BRIDAL DAY (34) The marriage thou hast desired Is performed, O happy bridegroom; The bride which thou hast admired, Thine own has she now become. FELICITATIONS (35) Good wishes give we to the bride. And to the bridegroom at her side. THE FATHER (36) The father said: " We give this maid." 30 Sappho THE PORTER (37) Seven fathoms long, the porter's feet Five ox-hides for his shoes did need. Ten cobblers worked them to complete. THE UNWOOED MAIDEN (38) Just as the hyacinth purple, whose flowers on the mountain are blooming, Down on the ground is trod by the feet of the shepherds home-coming. VESPER (39) Evening, which bringest all things which the gleam- ing Aurora has scattered. The sheep and the goats thou bring'st home ; Thou the son to his mother let'st come. ANDROMACHE'S WEDDING (40-41) " Now Hector and his comrades bring home An- dromache, The bright-eyed beauteous lady, across the briny sea 31 Lyric Sonffs of the Greeks Upon their ships from Thebe, from Placia's gush- ing streams.

• From Confessions of a Mask (1958)

  It was at the home of a friend who had decided to volunteer shortly as a special cadet. His name was Kusano, and I thought highly of him, regarding him as the only friend I had had in higher school with whom I could talk even slightly of serious matters. Indeed I still value his friendship today. I am a person who has no particular desire to have friends, but I am made miserable by something inside me that forces me to tell what follows, even though it is quite likely to destroy the sole friendship I have. "Does whoever's playing that piano show promise? Sometimes the playing sounds a little uneven, doesn't it?" "That's my sister. Her teacher's just gone and she's reviewing the lesson." We ceased talking and listened intently. As Kusano's enlistment was close at hand, it was probably not just the sound of the piano in the next room that rang in his ears but rather a familiar, everyday thing, a kind of clumsy, irritating beauty, that he would soon have to leave behind. In the tonal color of those piano sounds there was a feeling of intimacy, like amateurish candy made while looking at the recipe book, and I could not resist asking: "How old is she?" "Seventeen," Kusano answered. "She's the sister just younger than I." The more I listened the more I could hear that It was indeed the sound of a piano played by a seventeen-year-old girl, full of dreams and still unaware of her own beauty, whose fingertips still retained traces a childhood. I prayed that her practice would continue forever. My prayer was answered. In my heart the sound of that piano still continues today, five years later. How many times have I tried to convince myself it is only a hallucination! How many times has my reason ridiculed this delusion! How many times has my weak will laughed at my capacity for self-deception? And for all that the fact remains that the sound of that piano took possession of me, and that for me it was—if the dark connotations can be omitted from the word—veritably a thing of "destiny." I was remembering the strange impression I had received from this word destiny only a short time before. After the graduation ceremony at higher school, I had gone in an automobile with the old admiral-principal to pay a formal call of gratitude at the Palace. As we drove along, this cheerless old man, with mucous clotted in the corners of his eyes, had criticized my decision not to volunteer as a special cadet but simply await conscription as a common soldier. He had emphasized that, with my physique, I would never be able to endure the rigors of life in the ranks. "But I've made up my mind." "You say that because you don't realize what it means. But then the day for volunteering has already passed.

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

  (2.) The Epistle to Florinus, of which Eusebius has preserved an interesting and important fragment, treated On the Unity of God, and the Origin of Evil.1406 It was written probably after the work against heresies, and as late as 190.1407 Florinus was an older friend and fellow-student of lrenaeus and for some time presbyter in the church of Rome, but was deposed on account of his apostasy to the Gnostic heresy. Irenaeus reminded him very touchingly of their common studies at the feet of the patriarchal Polycarp, when he held some position at the royal court (probably during Hadrian’s sojourn at Smyrna), and tried to bring him back to the faith of his youth, but we do not know with what effect. (3.) On the Ogdoad1408 against the Valentinian system of Aeons, in which the number eight figures prominently with a mystic meaning. Eusebius says that it was written on account of Florinus, and that he found in it "a most delightful remark," as follows: "I adjure thee, whoever thou art, that transcribest this book, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by his gracious appearance, when he shall come to judge the quick and the dead, to compare what thou hast copied, and to correct it by this original manuscript, from which thou hast carefully transcribed. And that thou also copy this adjuration, and insert it in the copy." The carelessness of transcribers in those days is the chief cause of the variations in the text of the Greek Testament which abounded already in the second century. Irenaeus himself mentions a remarkable difference of reading in the mystic number of Antichrist (666 and 616), on which the historic interpretation of the book depends (Rev. 13:18). (4.) A book On Schism, addressed to Blastus who was the head of the Roman Montanists and also a Quartodeciman.1409 It referred probably to the Montanist troubles in a conciliatory spirit. (5.) Eusebius mentions1410 several. other treatises which are entirely lost, as Against the Greeks (or On Knowledge), On Apostolic Preaching, a Book on Various Disputes,1411 and on the Wisdom of Solomon. In the Syriac fragments some other lost works are mentioned. (6.) Irenaeus is probably the author of that touching account of the persecution of 177, which the churches of Lyons and Vienne sent to the churches in Asia Minor and Phrygia, and which Eusebius has in great part preserved. He was an eyewitness of the cruel scene, yet his name is not mentioned, which would well agree with his modesty; the document breathes his mild Christian spirit, reveals his aversion to Gnosticism, his indulgence for Montanism, his expectation of the near approach of Antichrist. It is certainly one of the purest and most precious remains of ante-Nicene literature and fully equal, yea superior to the "Martyrdom of Polycarp," because free from superstitious relic-worship.1412

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  The dinner was served by a beaming Pierre, an excellent , dinner, more than worthy of Pauline; but neither of them man- aged to eat very much — they were far too acutely conscious of each other. When the meal was over they went into the study where, in spite of the abnormal shortage of fuel, Adèle had man- aged to build a huge fire which blazed recklessly half up the chimney. The room smelt slightly of hothouse flowers, of leather, of old wood and vanished years, and after a while of cigarette smoke. Then Stephen forced herself to speak lightly: “Come and sit over here by the fire,’ she said, smiling. So Mary obeyed, sitting down beside her, and she laid a hand upon Stephen’s knee; but Stephen appeared not to notice that hand, for she just let it lie there and went on talking. ‘Tve been thinking, Mary, hatching alll sorts of schemes. I’d like to get you right away for a bit, the weather seems pretty awful in Paris. Puddle once told me about Teneriffe, she went there ages ago with a pupil. She stayed at a place called Orotava; it’s 340 THE WELL OF LONELINESS lovely, I believe — do you think you’d enjoy it? I might manage to hear of a villa with a garden, and then you could just slack about in the sunshine.’ Mary said, very conscious of the unnoticed hand: * Do you really want to go away, Stephen? Wouldn’t it interfere with your writing? ° Her voice, Stephen thought, sounded strained and unhappy. ‘ Of course I want to go,’ Stephen reassured her, * PI work all the better for a holiday. Anyhow, I must see you looking more fit,’ and she suddenly laid her hand over Mary’s. The strange sympathy which sometimes exists between two human bodies, so that a touch will stir many secret and perilous emotions, closed down on them both at that moment of contact, and they sat unnaturally still by the fire, feeling that in their still- ness lay safety. But presently Stephen went on talking, and now she talked of purely practical matters. Mary must go for a fort- night to her cousins, she had better go almost at once, and remain there while Stephen herself went to Morton. Eventually they would meet in London and from there motor straight away to Southampton, for Stephen would have taken their passages and if possible found a furnished villa, before she went down to Mor- ton. She talked on and on, and as she did so her fingers tightened and relaxed abruptly on the hand that she had continued to hold, so that Mary imprisoned those nervous fingers in her own, and Stephen made no resistance.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  Tunery went to see the kind Mademoiselle Duphot, and this visit seemed momentous to Mary. She gazed with something almost like awe at the woman who had had the teaching of Stephen. ‘Oh, but yes,’ smiled Mademoiselle Duphot, ‘I teached her. She was terribly naughty over her dictée; she would write re- marks about the poor Henri — très impertinente she would be about Henri! Stévenne was a queer little child and naughty — but so dear, so dear — I could never scold her. With me she done everything her own way.’ ‘ Please tell me about that time,’ coaxed Mary. So Mademoiselle Duphot sat down beside Mary and patted her hand: ‘ Like me, you love her. Well now let me recall — She would sometimes get angry, very angry, and then she would go to the stables and talk to her horse. But when she fence it was marvellous — she fence like a man, and she only a baby but extrémement strong. And then. . . .” The memories went on and on, such a store she possessed, the kind Mademoiselle Duphot. As she talked her heart went out to the girl, for she felt a great tenderness towards young things: ‘I am glad that you come to live with our Stévenne now that Mademoiselle Puddle is at Morton. Stévenne would be desolate in the big house. It is charm- ing for both of you this new arrangement. While she work you look after the ménage; is it not so? You take care of Stévenne, she take care of you. Oui, oui, I am glad you have come to Paris.’ Julie stroked Mary’s smooth young cheek, then her arm, for she wished to observe through her fingers. She smiled: ‘ Very young, also very kind. I like so much the feel of your kindness — it gives me a warm and so happy sensation, because with all kind- ness there must be much good.’ Was she quite blind after all, the poor Julie? THE WELL OF LONELINESS 375 And hearing her Stephen flushed with pleasure, and her eyes that could see turned and rested on Mary with a gentle and very profound expression in their depths — at that moment they were calmly thoughtful, as though brooding upon the mystery of life — one might almost have said the eyes of a mother. A happy and pleasant visit it had been; they talked about it all through the evening. CHAPTER 41 I uRTON, who had enlisted in the Worcesters soon after Stephen had found work in London, Burton was now back again in Paris, loudly demanding a brand-new motor. ‘The car looks awful! Snub-nosed she looks — peculiar — all tucked up in the bonnet; ’ he declared.

• From Confessions of a Mask (1958)

  At the time, like the crew of a wrecked ship, they had found themselves in a situation where it was permissible to kill one person in order that another might live. A man who died trying to rescue his sweetheart was killed, not by the flames, but by his sweetheart; and it was none other than the child who murdered its own mother when she was trying to save it. The condition they had faced and fought against there—that of a life for a life—had probably been the most universal and elemental that mankind ever encounters. In their faces I saw traces of that exhaustion which comes from witnessing a spectacular drama. Some hot feeling of confidence poured into me. Though it was only for a few seconds, I felt that all my doubts concerning the fundamental requirement of manhood had been totally swept away. My breast was filled with a desire to shout. Perhaps if I had been a little richer in the power of self-understanding, if I had been blessed with a little more wisdom, I could have gone on to a close examination of that requirement and could finally have understood the real meaning of myself as a human being. Instead, comically enough, the warmth of a kind of fantasy made me put my arm around Sonoko's waist for the first time. Perhaps this action and the brotherly, protective spirit that prompted it had already shown me that what is called love had no meaning for me. If so, it was a sudden insight into truth, which was forgotten just as quickly as it came. . . .With my arm still around her waist, we walked in front of the others and passed hurriedly through the gloomy passageway. Sonoko said not a word. We got on the elevated train, and its lights seemed strangely bright. I could see Sonoko gazing at me. Her eyes, though still black and soft, seemed somehow urgently pleading. When we transferred to the metropolitan loop line, about ninety percent of the passengers were air-raid victims. Now there was an even more noticeable smell of fire. They were loud and boastful as they related to each other the dangers they had undergone. In the true sense of the word, this was a rebellious mob: it was a mob that harbored a radiant discontent, an overflowing, triumphant, high-spirited dissatisfaction. Reaching S Station, where I was to part from the others, I returned Sonoko's bag to her and got off. As I walked along the pitch-dark streets to my house I was reminded over and over again that my hands were no longer carrying her bag. At last I recognized the important role which that bag had played in our relationship. It had served as a tiny drudgery, and for me the weight of some sort of drudgery was always needed to keep my conscience from raising its head too high. When I arrived home the family greeted me as though nothing had happened.

• From Cults Inside Out: How People Get In and Can Get Out (2014)

  CULTS INSIDE OUT How People Get In and Can Get Out RICK ALAN ROSS Copyright © 2014 Rick Alan Ross All rights reserved. ISBN: 149731660X ISBN 13: 9781497316607 Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905061 CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform North Charleston, South Carolina FOR HAO HUIJUN AND HER DAUGHTER, CHEN GUO I met Falun Gong survivors Hao Huijun and her daughter, Chen Guo, after attending an international cultic studies conference in China. Their painfully acquired insight, wrought by a horrible Falun Gong–inspired self-immolation, which took place at Tiananmen Square during 2001, is both compelling and inspiring. They quite literally bear the scars of their experience and are icons of truthfulness, compassion and forbearance. This book is dedicated to Hao Huijun and Chen Guo and all former cult members who have moved on to find freedom of mind. TABLE OF CONTENTS Foreword Introduction Chapter 1 Growing Cult Awareness Chapter 2 Small but Deadly Chapter 3 Family Cults Chapter 4 Defining a Destructive Cult Chapter 5 “Cult Brainwashing” Chapter 6 History of Cult-Intervention Work Chapter 7 Assessing the Situation Chapter 8 Coping Strategies Chapter 9 Preparation for an Intervention Chapter 10 The Intervention Process Chapter 11 Bible-Based Group Intervention Chapter 12 Falun Gong Chapter 13 Falun Gong Intervention Chapter 14 Scientology Chapter 15 Scientology Intervention Chapter 16 Large Group Awareness Training (LGAT) Chapter 17 LGAT Intervention Chapter 18 Abusive, Controlling Relationships Chapter 19 Abusive, Controlling Relationship Intervention Chapter 20 Guru Group Intervention Chapter 21 Amway Intervention Chapter 22 Failed Interventions Chapter 23 Moving On Postscript Acknowledgments Bibliography About the Author FOREWORD My work has placed me in legal settings, and I have been qualified as an expert in courts of law. I know firsthand what is considered the state of art within this field. I have a PhD in psychology and have worked with current and former cult members as a licensed counselor for over twenty years. In this book Rick Ross describes situations in which a current cult member could be persuaded that he or she needs a replacement for his or her current or former cult leader. This is one reason why we must proceed with caution and due diligence when educating former and current cult members and their families. This book is unique among the books written about cults. My hope is that people will carefully read it. The author has firsthand knowledge of the subject and is qualified to explain cults based on his many years of experience. We don’t know how many cults actually exist, but we have witnessed the harm they have done. Critics of the term cult generally object to its standardized application, claiming that it denigrates “new religious movements.” But since many cults are not religious, this objection seems misplaced.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  ‘ You didn’t ought to have no ’orses, Miss Stephen, the way you runs off and leaves them; ’ he grumbled, ‘ Raftery’s been off "is feed these last days. I’ve been talkin’ to that Jim what you sets such store by! Impudent young blight, ’e answered me back like as though I'd no right to express me opinion. But I says to ’im: “ You just wait, lad,” I says, “ You wait until I gets ’old of Miss Stephen! ” ’ For Williams could never keep clear of the stables, and could never refrain from nagging when he got there. Deposed he might be, but not yet defeated even by old age, as grooms knew to their cost. The tap of his heavy oak stick in the yard was enough to send Jim and his underling flying to hide curry-combs and brushes out of sight. Williams needed no glasses when it came to disorder. ‘ Be this place ’ere a stable or be it a pigsty, I wonder? ° was pow his habitual greeting. THE WELL OF LONELINESS 193 His wife came bustling in from the kitchen: ‘ Sit down, Miss Stephen,’ and she dusted a chair. Stephen sat down and glanced at the Bible where it lay, still open, on the table. ‘ Yes, said Williams dourly, as though she had spoken, ‘ I’m reduced to readin’ about ’eavenly ’orses. A nice endin’ that for a man like me, what’s been in the service of Sir Philip Gordon, what’s ’ad ‘is legs across the best ’unters as ever was seen in this county or any! And I don’t believe in them lion-headed beasts breathin’ fire and brimstone, it’s all agin nature. Whoever it was wrote them Revelations, can’t never have been inside of a stable. I don’t believe in no ’eavenly ’orses neither — there won’t be no ’orses in ’eaven; and a good thing too, judgin’ by the description.’ ‘I’m surprised at you, Arth-thur, bein’ so disrespectful to The Book! ’ his wife reproached him gravely. * Well, it ain’t no encyclopaedee to the stable, and that’s a sure thing,’ grinned Williams. Stephen looked from one to the other. They were old, very old, fast approaching completion. Quite soon their circle would be complete, and then Williams would be able to tackle Saint John on the points of those heavenly horses. Mrs. Williams glanced apologetically at her: ‘ Excuse ’im, Miss Stephen, ’e’s gettin’ rather childish. ’E won’t read no pretty parts of The Book; all ’e’ll read is them parts about chariots and such like. All what’s to do with ’orses ’e reads; and then ’e’s so unbelievin’ — it’s aw-ful! ° But she looked at her mate with the eyes of a mother, very gentle and tolerant eyes.

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

  5. Finally, the writer intimates that he is one of the Twelve, that he is one of the favorite three, that he is not Peter, nor James, that he is none other than the beloved John who leaned on the Master’s bosom. He never names himself, nor his brother James, nor his mother Salome, but he has a very modest, delicate, and altogether unique way of indirect self-designation. He stands behind his Gospel like a mysterious figure with a thin veil over his face without ever lifting the veil. He leaves the reader to infer the name by combination. He is undoubtedly that unnamed disciple who, with Andrew, was led to Jesus by the testimony of the Baptist on the banks of the Jordan (1:35–40), the disciple who at the last Supper "was reclining at the table in Jesus’ bosom" (13:23–25), that "other disciple" who, with Peter, followed Jesus into the court of the high-priest (18:15, 16), who stood by the cross and was intrusted by the dying Lord with the care of His mother (19:26, 27), and that "other disciple whom Jesus loved," who went with Peter to the empty sepulchre on the resurrection morning and was convinced of the great fact by the sight of the grave-cloths, and the head-cover rolled up in a place by itself (20:2–8). All these narratives are interwoven with autobiographic details. He calls himself "the disciple whom Jesus loved," not from vanity (as has been most strangely asserted by some critics), but in blessed and thankful remembrance of the infinite mercy of his divine Master who thus fulfilled the prophecy of his name Johanan, i.e., Jehovah is gracious. In that peculiar love of his all-beloved Lord was summed up for him the whole significance of his life. With this mode of self-designation corresponds the designation of members of his family: his mother is probably meant by the unnamed "sister of the mother" of Jesus, who stood by the cross (John 19:25), for Salome was there, according to the Synoptists, and John would hardly omit this fact; and in the list of the disciples to whom Jesus appeared at the Lake of Galilee, "the sons of Zebedee" are put last (21:2), when yet in all the Synoptic lists of the apostles they are, with Peter and Andrew, placed at the head of the Twelve. This difference can only be explained from motives of delicacy and modesty. What a contrast the author presents to those pseudonymous literary forgers of the second and third centuries, who unscrupulously put their writings into the mouth of the apostles or other honored names to lend them a fictitious charm and authority; and yet who cannot conceal the fraud which leaks out on every page. Conclusion.

• From Enchanted: Erotic Bedtime Stories for Women (Erotic Fiction) (2006)

  How could he refuse? Sullenly he went to draw her bath. As he watched the water fill the tub he reflected that bubbles might make the bath more pleasant for them both, since he planned to linger while she bathed and he loved the way the bubbles bounced and clung to her luscious curves. This he accomplished easily enough, but then it occurred to him that candles would undoubtedly make the bubbles sparkle as they bounced. These thoughts chased away his surly mood, and he was even smiling when she came in for her bath. She glanced at the candles and then at his face, and she blushed as he gave her a wink. Could he be flirting with her? Her heart gave a little leap. And even when Cinderella slipped off the enchanted slippers she was still too delighted by her husband’s attentions to remember to be unhappy. Needing a task to take his mind off his throbbing loins, the prince picked up the soap and began to wash Cinderella, starting with her feet, taking time to massage her flesh from toe to heel, slowly and caressingly, and then moving his way up her leg to her thigh. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure. He did not rush over the task, but perceiving her wish to relax and unwind from her unusually busy day, and also wishing to enjoy the task ahead of him, her husband leisurely and thoroughly bathed her. As the prince lovingly assisted Cinderella with her bath, he asked her questions about her day and listened attentively to her answers. The warm water and his courtly manner caused her cheeks to turn pink with warm anticipation. It suddenly occurred to her that her husband was infinitely more attentive and charming and romantic when his body desired her than he was once she had already pleased him. And his attentions were in turn making her desire him. The prince had very scrupulously washed her legs and feet, and now his hands very gently and carefully washed her private area. She had been chatting happily until then, when suddenly his administrations silenced her. Their eyes locked as his hands slowly washed the fleshy parts of her opening, and then wiggled into the cleft of her backside and circled that opening as well, not quitting until both regions were squeaky clean. Next he washed her torso and breasts, and shoulders and back. Then he pulled the plug to let the water drain, while at the very same time pouring very warm water over her to rinse her. The bath was so well performed that Cinderella’s heart was touched along with the rest of her senses. For this was not the bath of an impatient lover, but more like that of a loving caregiver. His gentle attentions caused her heart to fill.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  They were standing alone in the spacious night-nursery, where Collins was limply making the bed. It was one of those rare and delicious occasions when Stephen could converse with her goddess undisturbed, for the nurse had gone out to post a letter. Collins rolled down a coarse woollen stocking and dis- played the afflicted member; it was blotchy and swollen and far from attractive, but Stephen’s eyes filled with quick, anxious tears as she touched the knee with her finger. ‘There now!’ exclaimed Collins, ‘See that dent? That’s the water!’ And she added: ‘It’s so painful it fair makes me sick. It all comes from polishing them floors, Miss Stephen; I didn’t ought to polish them floors.’ Stephen said gravely: ‘I do wish I’d got it—I wish I’d got your housemaid’s knee, Collins, ’cause that way I could bear it instead of you. Pd like to be awfully hurt for you, Collins, the way that Jesus was hurt for sinners. Suppose I pray hard, don’t you think I might catch it? Or supposing I rub my knee against yours? ’ “Lord bless you! ’ laughed Collins, ‘ it’s not like the measles; no, Miss Stephen, it’s caught from them floors.’ That evening Stephen became rather pensive, and she turned to the Child’s Book of Scripture Stories and she studied the pic- ture of the Lord on His Cross, and she felt that she understood Him. She had often been rather puzzled about Him, since she herself was fearful of pain—when she barked her shins on the gravel in the garden, it was not always easy to keep back her tears—and yet Jesus had chosen to bear pain for sinners, when He might have called up all those angels! Oh, yes, she had wondered a great deal about Him, but now she no longer wondered. i At bedtime, when her mother came to hear her say her prayers 16 THE WELL OF LONELINESS as custom demanded —Stephen’s prayers lacked conviction. But when Anna had kissed her and had turned out the light, then it was that Stephen prayed in good earnest — with such fervour, indeed, that she dripped perspiration in a veritable orgy of prayer. ‘Please, Jesus, give me a housemaid’s knee instead of Col. lins —do, do, Lord Jesus. Please, Jesus, I would like to bear all Collins’ pain the way You did, and I don’t want any angels! I would like to wash Collins in my blood, Lord Jesus — I would like very much to be a Saviour to Collins — I love her, and I want to be hurt like You were; please, dear Lord Jesus, do let me. Please give me a knee that’s all full of water, so that I can have Collins’ operation. I want to have it instead of her, ’cause she’s frightened — I’m not a bit frightened! ’

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  a. Because we are His children, God chastens us by poverty or sorrow or pain; and then He gives us for our comfort and strength the Heavenly Bread of His own Body. b. Because we are His faithful children He brings us safely to His Home when the chastisement is over, and gives us there the most peaceable fruit of justice. Again, another preparation for receiving our Lord’s Body is spiritual eating, in which the perfect eat by devout meditation. This will be considered in the Nineteenth Meditation. The Voice of the Holy Ghost C. About the Lamb of God; John saw Jesus coming to him, and he saith: Behold the Lamb of God; behold Him who taketh away the sin of the world. This is He of whom I said: After me there cometh a man who is preferred before me, because He was before me.… Again John stood, and two of his disciples; and seeing Jesus walking he saith, Behold the Lamb of God. And the two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus. St. John 1:29, 35–37. (1) The Lamb; 1. In the night; It is good to hide the Sacrament of the King. Tobias 12:7. (2) The three accompaniments; They shall take of the blood, and put it upon both the side-posts and on the upper door-posts of the houses, wherein they shall eat it. And they shall eat the flesh that night roasted with fire, and unleavened bread with wild lettuce. You shall not eat of it anything raw nor boiled in water, but only roasted with fire; you shall eat the head with the feet and the purtenance thereof. Ex. 12:7–9. 1. Sorrow for sin; I will recount to Thee all my years in the bitterness of my soul. Is. 38:15. 2. A pure intention; Let us feast not with the old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. 1 Cor. 5:8. I will sacrifice to Thee the sacrifice of praise; and I will call upon the name of the Lord. Ps. 115:17. Let them sacrifice the sacrifice of praise; and declare His works with joy. Ps. 106:22. He that shall eat leavened bread, his soul shall perish out of the assembly of Israel. Ex. 12:19. 3. The memory of the Passion; God forbid that I should glory save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified to me and I to the world.… From henceforth let no man trouble me, for I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus. Gal. 6:14, 17. (3) The three ‘insignia;’ Thus shall you eat it (the Paschal lamb): you shall gird your loins, and you shall have shoes on your feet, holding staves in your hands. Ex. 12:11. 1. Continence; Prove me, O Lord, and try me; burn my reins and my heart. Ps. 25:2.

• From Fragments (7)

  And Eros, " Pray, open," commanded, " I am merely a child ; do not fear. 137 Lyric Songs of the Greeks ** I am drenched with rain and did wander From my road in the moonless nig^t." I, pitying, not long did ponder, But arose a lamp to light. A child with a bow and quiver On his winged back I saw; And then, as I saw him shiver, I him toward my hearth did draw. I warmed his cold hands trembling, From his hair the water I pressed. When he became warm, dissembling. He said : " This bow let us test. " I fear lest, its bow-strings laming. The rain set at naught my art." He stretched his string: at me aiming. He hit the midst of my heart. And he leaped and bounded with laughter, And said : " My friend, be thou glad. My bow is unharmed, but hereafter Thou wilt in thy heart be sad." TO THE CICADA (32) Happy insect, we admire thee, Who on leafy boughs dost sing. Tiny dew-drops to inspire thee Ehrink'st thou, living like a king. 138 Anacreontea All is thine where'er thou goest; All in fields and woods thou knowest. Thou, of husbandmen the friend, Ne'er with harm dost them offend. All the mortals give thee honor, Summertime's sweet prophet true. Phoebus, thy clear music's donor, And the Muses love thee too. Thee old age oppresses never; Wisdom, song thou lovest ever; Earth-bom, bloodless, blithe of heart, Almost like the gods thou art. TO EROS (33) Eros once in rosy bowers Failed to see a bee. Which amidst the fragrant flowers. Stung him grievously. With his finger sorely paining. Loudly he cried out; Then to Venus flew complaining. And to her did shout: " Mother, I by death am smitten ; I am ruined, see. Me a small winged snake has bitten : Farmers call it bee." 139 Lyric Songs of the Greeks And she said : " Thus sorely troubled By a bee thou art? Eros, think what pain redoubled Brings to man thy dart." TO A MISER (34) If Plutus gave to man to lengthen His life through power of paltry gold, My courage would I surely strengthen, So that of him I would take hold. And when it were my time for dying, For gold Death then would pass me by ; But now of life there is no buying. For gold why should I therefore sigh? For e*en if death is surely fated. Why should I always groan in vain ? Why should I be with sorrow weighted? Far more by drink I hope to gain. To drink sweet wine, which cares e£Faces, To be with friends is my desire. And to love's tender sweet embraces May Aphrodite me inspire. A DREAM (35) Once at midnight I was sleeping. Under purple rugs I lay; X40 Anacreontea

• From Confessions of a Mask (1958)

  Now I saw how true the gossip was, and in the face of such animation I could not offer the usual condolences. I kept a shocked silence, thinking to myself that she'd have done better to have left off the large white artificial flowers she had in her hair. "Today I came to see Tatchan on business," she said, calling my father by the familiar form of his name Tatsuo. "I came to ask about the evacuation of our things. Because the other day Papa and Tatchan met some place and he said he could recommend a good place for us to send the things to." "The old man said he would be a little late coming home today. But never mind—" Seeing her too-crimson lips, I became ill at ease and broke off. Perhaps it was because of my fever, but that crimson color seemed to bore into my eyes and make my head ache violently. "But you're wearing so much—In these days how can you use so much make-up without people on the street saying something?" "Are you already old enough to be noticing a woman's make-up? Lying down like you are, you look exactly like a baby who's just been weaned from the breast.""What a nuisance you are! Go away!" She approached me deliberately. I did not want her to see me in my night clothes and pulled the covers up to my neck. Suddenly she stretched out her hand and laid her palm against my forehead. The icy coldness of her hand against my skin was like a stab, and yet it felt good. "You've got fever. Did you take your temperature?” “Exactly 103 degrees." "What you need is an ice bag." "There's not any ice." "I'll see to it." Chieko flounced gaily out of the room, her kimono sleeves flapping against each other, and went downstairs. Soon she returned and sat down in a quiet pose. "I sent that boy for it." "Thanks." I was looking at the ceiling. She picked up the book at my bedside and her cool silken sleeve brushed my cheek. Suddenly I wanted those cool sleeves. I started to ask her to put them on my forehead, but then I stopped. The room began to become twilit. "What a slow servant," she said. A person with fever perceives the passage of time with morbid exactness and I knew it was still too soon for Chieko to be emphasizing that he was slow. A few minutes later she spoke again: "How slow! What can the boy be doing?" "He's not slow I tell you," I shouted nervously. "Oh, you poor thing, you're upset. Please close your eyes. Please don't try to outstare the ceiling with such an awful look." I closed my eyes, and the heat of my eyelids became intense agony. Suddenly I felt something touch my forehead, and with it came a faint breath against my skin.