unforgiveness

Jesus came to give his righteousness not to condemn the unrighteous.

But besides that I was of an unforgiving disposition from my birth, slow to take offense, slower to forget it, and now incensed both against my companion and myself.

Forgiveness is the virtue of the courageous, the response of the forgiven, the mercy of the just.

Unforgiveness is so much stress, I tell you. You just keep going round in circles instead of taking a straight path which forgiveness offers.

...there is nothing unforgivable and there are no secrets before an all-knowing merciful God.

One of the most devastating symptoms of pride is the unwillingness to forgive.

An open heart has greater power than a clenched fist.

People withhold their forgiveness, thinking that it makes them badass. But really, the unwillingness to forgive is merely the wishing that things were better. You wish that you had better, you wish that someone else were better so they could have treated you better... it__ you making wishes. And that__ not badass. To forgive is to be able to look at the person and say __ accept that you weren__ any better than what you were_, __ accept what you were you and couldn__ have been what I wished you to be_, __ accept that things were the way they were and weren__ any better._ The ability to forgive is intertwined with the ability to accept the reality of the way things are/ the way a person is or was. You stop wishing things and you just accept. And hope is what says to you: __ne day you__l have what__ better.

Our hearts are all prison walls when we hold people captive with chains of unforgiveness.

To live with unforgiveness is to become a captive cultured citizen whose taxation is that of demonically ticketed torment.

A prolonged unforgiveness is a prolonged destruction mindset

You made me hate the person I was becoming__nly because you wanted me to__nd for that, you will never be forgiven.

There in its nasty, stinking, underground home our insulted, crushed and ridiculed mouse promptly becomes absorbed in cold, malignant and, above all, everlasting spite. For forty years together it will remember its injury down to the smallest, most ignominious details, and every time will add, of itself, details still more ignominious, spitefully teasing and tormenting itself with its own imagination. It will itself be ashamed of its imaginings, but yet it will recall it all, it will go over and over every detail, it will invent unheard of things against itself, pretending that those things might happen, and will forgive nothing. Maybe it will begin to revenge itself, too, but, as it were, piecemeal, in trivial ways, from behind the stove, incognito, without believing either in its own right to vengeance, or in the success of its revenge, knowing that from all its efforts at revenge it will suffer a hundred times more than he on whom it revenges itself, while he, I daresay, will not even scratch himself. On its deathbed it will recall it all over again, with interest accumulated over all the years_

To violate the law of love is to live in un-forgiveness

Cries for justice are often the bitter laments of the vengeful.