#temptation — Public Fediverse posts

A quotation from Ingersoll

Strange! that a world cursed by God, filled with temptations and thick with fiends, should be the only place where hope exists, the only place where man can repent, the only place where reform is possible! Strange! that heaven, filled with angels and presided over by God, is the only place where reformation is utterly impossible! Yet these are the teachings of all the believers in the eternity of punishment.

Robert Green Ingersoll (1833–1899) American lawyer, freethinker, orator
Lecture (1881-05-01) “The Great Infidels,” Booth’s Theater, New York City

More about this quote: wist.info/ingersoll-robert-gre…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #ingersoll #robertingersoll #robertgreeningersoll #Christianity #damnation #earth #eternalpunishment #God #heaven #hope #lastchance #penitence #reforming #repentance #salvation #sin #temptation #world

Dogfirmations with Doofie and Dingus: Temptation

Every time Dingus resists a temptation, he builds greater self-control.

View Dogfirmation: https://dogs.blackcatwhitehatsecurity.com/?dogID=258#today

#Temptation #AI #dogs #photography #nature #artist #technology

A quotation from Bill Watterson

   CALVIN: Do you believe in the Devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of Man?
   HOBBES: I’m not sure Man needs the help.

Bill Watterson (b. 1958) American cartoonist
Calvin and Hobbes (1992-04-06)

More about this quote: wist.info/watterson-bill/85386…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #billwatterson #calvinandhobbes #adversary #belief #corruption #devil #humancondition #humannature #humanity #lucifer #Satan #selfdestructiveness #temptation

@ADailyViolet

But the tail is *right* *there* ...

#temptation #HandsOffTheCottonYouSwab

Grasshopper wisdom
Refine #temptation tincture
Head in the cloud brew

#dailyhaikuprompt Grasshopper Cloud
#haiku #senryu #vss365 #haikufeels
#poetrycommunity #poetry

Dogfirmations with Doofie and Dingus: Temptation

Every time Dingus resists a temptation, he builds greater self-control.

#Temptation #technology #artificialintelligence #animals #photography #dogs #nature #pets #artist

View Dogfirmation: https://dogs.blackcatwhitehatsecurity.com/?dogID=258#today

The Screwtape Letters

"A sly and ironic portrayal of human life and foibles from the unique vantage point of Screwtape"

Sale: $17.99 to $2.99

by C. S. Lewis
Rating: 4.7/5 (20,258 Reviews)

#christmas #christianity #faith #satire #temptation #spirituality #religion #booksky #books

The Screwtape Letters

Ananias, Sapphira, and the Death of Utopia

According to Sigurd Grindheim, Greek and Roman philosophers sometimes imagined a utopia in which a community “lived together in perfect harmony and shared everything.” That being said, when the early church launched and looked very much like this description, some may have thought that utopia had finally been realized.

But as with all good things, Satan always finds a way to twist it. The first offenders of the new Christian utopia were a couple named Ananias and Sapphira. Having recently sold some property, the couple agreed to give the proceeds to the church, but they kept some back for themselves without mentioning it. Peter recognized this decision as the work of Satan in their hearts, and the two died supernaturally.

This story is enough to send shivers down our spines, as it is one of the most intense stories of judgment in the New Testament. But this is not a story about tithing or generosity, as some pastors might retell it. This is the story of a couple who wondered how they might use the church’s new utopian society to get ahead. They didn’t face judgment because they kept some of their own money to themselves—that was always their choice to make. They faced judgment because they wanted people to think they were far more generous than they were. As far as anyone else knew, they had given all of their money away. In this new utopia, such an action would make them look holy and righteous, gain the community’s respect, and likely move them up in leadership.

As I was listening to the radio this morning, a historian was discussing the ideals around the founding of America. These were the beliefs and actions that set us apart from the rest of the world. We were a republic, and we cared about the pursuit of happiness, liberty, and justice for all.

This description sat oddly with me on America’s 250th birthday. I’m all for putting power in the people’s hands, but I can’t think of any American who really feels like they have any real sway over the government. I can think of people who believe the whole world has equal access to happiness, liberty, and justice, but anyone who has done the research unequivocally knows that’s not true. While the ideals themselves are good, we are hardly a shining city on a hill of those ideas 250 years later. What happened?

Any of the utopian ideals America was founded upon have been corrupted over time by the same forces that pried at the church’s utopia in its earliest days. With a little bit of money and deceit, you can buy your way forward in any system and then turn it back to glorify yourself. Not even the church itself can create a system that’s so perfect that Sin won’t find a way to manipulate it, for Sin knows how to twist everything. There is no ideal or action so pure that it can’t be twisted in some way. Even our pursuit of Jesus himself can be turned into religious legalism and hatred if Satan grabs hold of our hearts and minds along the way.

Yes, there are better ways to do things, and those ways should always be chosen. But we should never be so naive as to think we have finally found the kind of governor or governance that is impervious to Sin. Checks and balances must always bring about prophetic correction—and that will only happen when your checks and balances aren’t also corrupted by Sin.

The world is a mess. May we keep our eyes on Jesus always. We may not always have the power to change the systems of this world, but we always have the space to let the Spirit change us as we live within those systems.

Avarice

A big red-lettered sign outside the house pronounced it CONDEMNED, and still I ventured across the creaky porch into the dark abyss that lay beyond the doorway.

The sign should have been enough.

The sagging roof should have been enough. The busted windows, the weeds grown waist-high against the steps, the porch boards soft beneath my feet like wet bread. Even the silence should have warned me, that heavy silence of a place no longer waiting to be lived in, but waiting to fall.

Still, I entered.

At first, I told myself I only wanted to look.

I stepped carefully through the doorway, one hand out before me, the other trailing along the wall, my fingers gathering dust as thick as ash. The air inside was stale and sweet with rot. Somewhere in the walls, something skittered. Somewhere above me, a loose shutter tapped in the wind, though no wind seemed able to reach that far into the house.

I walked slowly, carefully, among the rooms, savoring the cobwebbed pleasures each one offered.

In the parlor hung a beautiful chandelier, dimmed by dust but still glittering faintly where the sunlight found it. I stood beneath it for a long moment, imagining it cleaned and lit, imagining its crystals throwing stars across a ceiling that was already splitting.

In the dining room, half-buried beneath a fallen curtain, I found a gold-embossed vase. I turned it in my hands, brushing away the grime with my sleeve. There were cracks in it, but not enough to ruin its beauty. Not enough to keep me from wanting it.

In the kitchen, beside a rusted sink, I found a silver spoon.

I slipped it into my pocket.

That was the first thing I took.

It was so small it hardly seemed to matter. A spoon from a dead house. A little rescued thing. A little reward for courage. No one would miss it. No one could want it now.

And yet, once it was in my pocket, I began to see more.

A brass candlestick. A framed miniature. A blue glass bottle on a windowsill. A cracked mirror whose tarnished edge still caught my reflection and gave it back to me in fragments. Every room offered something. Every corner whispered, take this too.

The house, for all its ruin, was rich with forgotten beauty.

I forgot the sign.

I forgot the porch beneath me, the warning in red letters, the dark mouth of the doorway through which I had entered. I forgot the sky outside and the field beyond and the clean air I had left behind.

There was only the next room.

And the next thing.

And the next.

I began to move faster, less carefully now, my pockets heavy, my arms full. I no longer savored the rooms. I searched them. I pulled open drawers swollen shut with damp. I kicked aside fallen plaster. I tore through the dust as if the house owed me what it had hidden.

Then the house gave a lurch.

It was not a sound at first, but a movement, a deep shudder traveling up through the floorboards and into my bones. The chandelier trembled. The walls groaned. Somewhere above me, a beam cracked like a rifle shot.

I froze.

For one foolish second, I clutched the vase tighter.

Then years of rot began to cascade down around me.

Plaster fell in pale sheets. Wood split. A rain of dust poured from the ceiling, thick and choking. The rooms that had seemed so full of treasure became suddenly full of teeth. The beautiful chandelier swung once, twice, then tore free and crashed behind me in a glittering explosion.

I began to run back through the rooms, oblivious to their ancient beauty in my haste to reach the spot of sunlight that spoke of the doorway and safety.

The vase fell from my hands and shattered.

I did not stop.

The brass candlestick dropped from beneath my arm and rolled away into darkness.

I did not turn.

The spoon in my pocket struck against my thigh with each step, a small, hard reminder of what had first persuaded me that stealing from ruin was not theft.

Beams landed beside me with thundering crashes as I ran, sending up clouds of choking dust. I began to cough uncontrollably, each breath tearing at my throat. My eyes watered. The doorway vanished in a smoky haze.

For a moment I could not see anything.

I stumbled into a wall, felt old nails bite into my palm, and cried out. Something sharp tore across the top of my foot. I kept moving. There was no thought left in me but air, light, escape.

The house groaned again, deeper this time, like some enormous animal folding in upon itself.

I ran toward where I believed the door had been.

Or where I prayed it had been.

Suddenly I burst through its frame and out into the field as the house fell with a great crash behind me.

The sound rolled through the ground and up into my chest. Dust billowed outward, swallowing the porch, the windows, the red-lettered sign, the rooms, the chandelier, the vase, the mirror, the bottle, all the small treasures that had called to me from the dark.

I fell to my knees in the grass and coughed until my ribs ached.

For a long while I could only kneel there, bent over, my hands pressed into the dirt, breathing the open air like a man newly born.

I had escaped certain demise with few scars, save the bloody scratches from nails on my hands and feet.

But they would soon heal.

I told myself that as I stood.

I told myself that as I brushed the dust from my clothes.

I told myself that as I looked once more at the heap of timber and plaster and ruin that had almost become my grave.

Then I felt the weight still in my pocket.

My fingers went to it before I could stop them.

The silver spoon was bent now, scratched and blackened, but it was still there.

I drew it out and held it in my bleeding hand.

Behind me, the condemned house settled into silence.

Before me, the field opened wide and clean beneath the sun.

I should have thrown the spoon into the wreckage.

I should have left it there with the rot and the dust and the red-lettered warning.

Instead, I wiped it on my sleeve and slipped it back into my pocket.

After all, it was only a small thing.

Originally written June 16, 1987, expanded June 2026

A quotation from Douglas Adams

The villagers sold us some [coconuts] and split them open for us. They are almost perfectly designed. You first make a hole and drink the milk, and then you split open the nut with a machete and slice off a segment of the shell, which forms a perfect implement for scooping out the coconut flesh inside. What makes you wonder about the nature of this god character is that he creates something that is so perfectly designed to be of benefit to human beings and then hangs it twenty feet above their heads on a tree with no branches.

Douglas Adams (1952-2001) English author, humorist, screenwriter
Last Chance to See, ch. 2 (1990) [with Mark Carwardine]

More about this quote: wist.info/adams-douglas/29886/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #douglasadans #lastchancetosee #benevolent #coconut #creation #design #food #God #intelligentdesign #malevolence #problemofsuffering #providence #suffering #Tantalus #temptation

#blondes #lingerie #sexy #beauty #monochrome #photographer #photomodel #modelswanted #temptation #photography #bnw #photomodels

Model: tulpenmuse
Location: on location
Photo and edit: The Blotch 666

A MIRACLE IN PLAIN CLOTHES

Who knew the #body could design its own #life if we allowed it?

The mind imagines the body as a problem to control. #Feed it, #distract it, #sedate it, #stimulate it, #argue with it, obey every itch and #craving.

But when the noise settles, the body is not stupid.

It has its own quiet #intelligence.

Given enough steadiness, it begins to choose #simplicity.

Early food. Early water. One black coffee. Breathwork. Walking. Sleep. Warmth. Rhythm.

Not because some stern inner monk is barking orders, but because the body discovers what feels good and clean.

#Temptation is mostly bad design, wearing #perfume.

The body gets promised pleasure and is handed #agitation.

But once it has #tasted real #steadiness, it begins to know the difference.

That may be the #miracle in plain clothes.

The body stops being dragged around by every passing #appetite and begins to live from its own deeper #yes

#fasting #acim #acourseinmiracles #newthought #eckharttolle #buddhism #breathwork #connection #healing #pridemonth #Karma #TrueNature #Awakening #Meditation #Mindfulness #Spirituality #intermittentfasting #nonduality #reality #life #quantum

Scales and Suits

The heat brings out the snakes,
like money draws the rich,
like war brings out the bombs,
like feces draws the flies.

Like power draws the cruel,
like wounds invite the salt,
like fear locks up the heart,
like greed learns how to steal.

The sun heats up the road,
the ditch begins to writhe,
the grass hides what it knows,
the stones remember blood.

A shadow slides under the fence,
a tongue divides the air,
a sermon without words,
a warning writ in scales.

The just open their doors,
the unjust oil their guns,
the children learn the rules,
the dogs refuse the crumbs.

The heat brings out the snakes,
and some of them have hands,
and some of them wear suits,
and some of them say prayers.

So I learn to watch the ground,
I learn to trust the dirt,
I learn where mercy coils,
I learn when avarice strikes.

June 17, 2014 (updated and expanded June 2026)

A quotation from Andrew Oliver

Politics is the most hazardous of all professions. There is not another in which a man can hope to do so much good to his fellow creatures; neither is there any in which by a mere loss of nerve he may do such widespread harm. Nor is there another in which he may so easily lose his own soul; nor is there another in which a positive and strict veracity is so difficult. But danger is the inseparable companion of honor. With all the temptations and degradations that beset it, politics is still the noblest career any man can choose.

Andrew Oliver (1706-1774) American Colonial merchant, politician, government official
Speech (1774?)

More about this quote: wist.info/oliver-andrew/84550/

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #andrewoliver #career #corruption #degradation #honor #politician #politics #potential #risk #statesman #temptation

@FotoVorschlag 'Versuchung' #FotoVorschlag

Every day I commute to work I pass by this cake shop. And there are days I cannot pass it :)

Camera: Sony Alpha 6000
Edit: none

#photography #blackandwhite #Vienna #Oberlaa #cake #enjoy #temptation

A quotation from Steinbeck

We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly re-spawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is.

John Steinbeck (1902-1968) American writer
East of Eden, ch. 34 (1952)

More about this quote: wist.info/steinbeck-john/83944…

#quote #quotes #quotation #qotd #steinbeck #johnsteinbeck #eastofeden #contest #goodandevil #humannature #innerdemons #innerself #internalstruggle #knowthyself #managainsthimself #morality #myth #novel #poetry #story #temptation #vice #virtue

She didn’t pull away.
That was the first mistake.
He didn’t ask again.
That was the second.
And somewhere between silence and breath—
she stopped pretending she didn’t want it.

#desire #tension #forbidden #chemistry #darkvibes #slowburn #heat #unspoken #temptation #almost

Tempting Fate: A Novel "No one captures the complexities of women's lives with more warmth and honesty than Jane Green" Sale: $26 to $1.99 by Jane Green Rating: 4.1/5 (4,647 Reviews) #WomensFiction #Contemporary #Midlife #Marriage #Temptation #JaneGreen #BookSky

Tempting Fate: A Novel

Tempting Boundaries (Montgomery Ink) "Miranda Montgomery has loved her brother’s best friend for as long as she can remember" Sale: $5.99 to FREE by Carrie Ann Ryan Rating: 4.4/5 (2,893 Reviews) #Romance #Contemporary #Books #EnemiesToLovers #FriendsToLovers #Temptation #Free #BookSky

Tempting Boundaries (Montgomer...