guilt

Over the lives borne from under the shadow of death there seems to fall the shadow of madness.

She has committed no crime, she has merely broken a rigid and time-honored code of our society, a code so severe that whoever breaks it is hounded from our midst as unfit to live with. She is the victim of cruel poverty and ignorance, but I cannot pity her: she is white. She knew full well the enormity of her offense, but because her desires were stronger than the code she was breaking, she persisted in breaking it. She persisted, and her subsequent reaction is something that all of us have known at one time or another. She did something every child has done-she tried to put the evidence of her offense away from her. But in this case she was no child hiding stolen contraband: she struck out at her victim-of necessity she must put him away from her-he must be removed from her presence, from this world. She must destroy the evidence of her offense.

If only it were possible to love without injury _ fidelity isn__ enough: I had been faithful to Anne and yet I had injured her. The hurt is in the act of possession: we are too small in mind and body to possess another person without pride or to be possessed without humiliation. In a way I was glad that my wife had struck out at me again _ I had forgotten her pain for too long, and this was the only kind of recompense I could give her. Unfortunately the innocent are always involved in any conflict. Always, everywhere, there is some voice crying from a tower.

Guilt is not a response to anger; it is a response to one__ own actions or lack of action. If it leads to change then it can be useful, since it is then no longer guilt but the beginning of knowledge. Yet all too often, guilt is just another name for impotence, for defensiveness destructive of communication; it becomes a device to protect ignorance and the continuation of things the way they are, the ultimate protection for changelessness.

I__ prefer you accuse my son, so he can defend his innocence rather than prolong unnecessary guilt." (Spoken by Bracke, told by Eric)

I knew nothing of death, and, for some unexplainable reason, I was beginning to feel guilty for that. -Jessica

And much like the despairity of the woman who can never bear children, my dreams can never bear fruit. They are the mountains I can never climb.The hurdles I can never leap.The seas I can never cross. The skies I can never look up to.Yet, I adopt them. Unblemished.Guilt-free.

Dread was always with her, an alarm system in her head, alertto her next disaster.Despite being resigned to a life of misfortune, she becameresourceful.She grudgingly noticed that things always worked out, evenwhen she claimed defeat.An inconvenient truth, yet it was right there, in her face,betraying her self-punishments and assumptions.She kept overcoming things, dammit, aggravating herself.She still felt so much joy, despite her efforts to be miserable.Her life was full of miracles and spectacles that she was afraidto rely on so she didn__ know how to enjoy, how to be thankful,without guilt.She didn__ want to win and she didn__ want to lose.Ambiguity intrigued her and she found passion in the gapsbetween hope and despair.

The events that occur in my life are workout situations. They are there for my benefit so I can become strong and gain wisdom and information by working my way through those situations.

Feeling bad is not the problem.The problem is that we feel bad about feeling bad.Once you begin to let go of feeling bad about feeling bad,and start feeling better about feeling bad,then pretty soon you'll just feel better.And then you'll feel awesome.

I am often guilty of expecting the worst so as to avoid disappointment and welcome surprise.

I cannot detain Love, holding him captive so that he may never break my heart. No more than I can stick Guilt in a pot so that I may boil him until all of my sins are vaporized, rising alongside the screaming steam. I cannot hold Sorrow in my arms and rock him to a fit and endless sleep. Nor can I search for Joy and effortlessly find him beneath the pink-dusted sky of late afternoon, where he waits for me with open arms.

Disappointment, fear, grief, unlove, dullness and guilt are the worst feelings. Learn from them so that you move on. Then replace them with more satisfying and promising joy, love gratitude, pride, confidence, direction.

Taking trips tore all of us up inside, for they seemed, each journey away from home, something that might have been less selfishly undertaken, or something that would test us, or something that had better be momentous, to justify such a leap into the dark. The torment and guilt - the torment of having the loved one go, the guilt of being the loved one gone - comes into my fiction as it did and does in my life. And most of all the guilt then was because it was true: I had left to arrive at some future and secret joy, at what was unknown, and what was no in New York, waiting to be discovered. My joy was connected with my writing; that was as much as I knew.

AIDS would have claimed fewer lives if we had publicly recommended what I wish to call __he Presumption of Sickness,_ i.e., the principle that whomever we are about to sleep with is HIV-positive until proven HIV-negative.

Always be truthful and you will have fewer visits from regret, guilt or fear.

The book argues that even though many cases have been held up as classic examples of modern American __itch hunts,_ none of them fits that description. McMartin certainly comes close. But a careful examination of the evidence presented at trial demonstrates why, in my view, a reasonable juror could vote for conviction, as many did in this case. Other cases that have been painted as witch-hunts turn out to involve significant, even overwhelming, evidence of guilt. There are a few cases to the contrary, but even those are more complicated than the witch-hunt narrative allows. In short, there was not, by any reasonable measure, an epidemic of __itch hunts_ in the 1980s. There were big mistakes made in how some cases were handled, particularly in the earliest years. But even in those years there were cases such as those of Frank Fuster and Kelly Michaels that, I believe, were based on substantial evidence but later unfairly maligned as having no evidentiary support.

Could feel the reservation wheeling around him, changing shape so that he nearly had to vomit, or hold his arms to his head and scream against it all.