misguided

Misguided good men are more dangerous than honest bad men. It is because they are seen as good that, in and by good conscience, the mob will always, stubbornly back them without question.

With God, being lost is nothing more than an idea that never has and never will be anything more than an idea.

If I__ chasing the wrong thing, what I__ chasing will end up chasing me. And in the end, I__ less likely to be the one doing the catching.

Ignorance has one virtue: persistence. It will insist through dogged persistence on leading others to follow its vision no matter how misguided. Ignorance will drive the world to the brink of failure and catastrophe and beyond into the abyss with arrogance and anger because wisdom is often too polite to fight. Wisdom doesn__ like to impose its will, but that is all ignorance understands__orce over free will and choice. Sooner or later the world comes to its senses, but oh the damage that has been done.

If there__ one thing that__ irrefutably absurd, it__ believing that we can separate intelligence from wisdom and still have it be intelligence.

If I have attached anything to sacrifice other than loss, I have at some level assumed a pay-off. And if I__e assumed a pay-off, I__ only assuming a sacrifice.

Meanings with no purpose are useful for meaningless debates on what the "meaner" meant. And that's what #politics is all about - misreading.

When the rush of the weak sweeps over those that strive to be strong, its destruction. The commonplaces of moral judgment become fogged with the lack of perception stained with the sting of longing. The voice of reason is lost in the envious echoes of hearts torn by battle. The song of our children echo the misfortune of their parent's haze---we all started out small and had dreams to become something more than what we were.

When it comes to moral dilemmas and matters of discerning right justice, my natural sympathy so often happens to land on the opposite end of that of most of my peers. I sometimes wonder if this is nothing more than the misguidedness and the wickedness of my own heart. I wonder other times if God wires some of us in such a way so that fair discourse might then be provided, so that honest and unbiased, due process is ultimately more likely to be carried out. Perhaps it is all necessary for variance of perception, for mindful debate: that the heart is meant to create a bit of bias on certain issues; as between one another, they weigh and balance. For not all hearts are the same.

My worth is not based on the __ork of my hands_ despite how feverishly I might work and how audaciously successful I might be. Rather, my worth is based exclusively on the astonishing fact that I am the __ork of God__ hands.

The assumption of __ights_ is the cancer of privilege.

If truth be told, the easy road is nothing more than an armchair in clever disguise. And if you look around, it seems that there are a whole lot of people in the furniture business.

The paralyzing fear of being lost is fed solely by the irrational fear that we will never be found.

I am amazed that without any hesitation whatsoever I can completely believe myself to be on a grand journey of massive vistas and bold ascents, only to find that they are nothing more than a figment of a frightened imagination that needed a journey but could not admit to the fear of actually taking one.

Too often it__ about what stands before us, not what stands within us.

Far too often the __hings_ that men define as success do little more than successfully destroy the lives of the very men who achieve those __hings._ And while I must admit that there is an authentic element of success in all of that, it__ the kind of success that I would much prefer to successfully avoid.

Funny how people that don't believe in nothin' are so quick to believe every crazy story about people like us.

I constantly pack my pockets full of worthless trinkets, and in such misguided gorging I leave my heart empty and my soul emaciated because I have forgotten everything but trinkets.