Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at th...e last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the street...s, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, they have their reward. But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The whole fauna of human fantasies, their marine vegetation, drifts and luxuriates in the dimly lit zones of human activity, as th...ough plaiting thick tresses of darkness. Here, too, appear the lighthouses of the mind, with their outward resemblance to less pure symbols. The gateway to mystery swings open at the touch of human weakness and we have entered the realms of darkness. One false step, one slurred syllable together reveal a man's thoughts.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
The dead have been awakened--shall I sleep? The world's at war with tyrants--shall I crouch?... The harvest's ripe--and shall I pause to reap? I slumber not; the thorn is in my couch; Each day a trumpet soundeth in mine ear, Its echo in my heart.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
If all would lead their lives in love like me, Then bloody swords and armor should not be;... No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move, Unless alarm came from the camp of love.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
...A shadow now occasionally crossed my simple, sanguine, and life enjoying mind, a notion that I was never really going to accomp...lish those powerful literary works which would blow a noble trumpet to social generosity and noblesse oblige before the world. What? should I find myself always planning and never achieving ... a richly complicated and yet firmly unified novel?LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
So, when the last and dreadful Hour This crumbling Pageant shall devour,... The TRUMPET shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And MUSICK shall untune the Sky.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
My first reading of Tolstoy affected me as a revelation from heaven, as the trumpet of the judgment. What he made me feel was not ...the desire to imitate, but the conviction that imitation was futile.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »