Word: unto
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Rendering unto Moscow. The most telling clue lies not in what the Russians did bring with them to Czechoslovakia but what they did not: a new government. Had the political decision to bring Dubcek under control or to oust him outright been in readiness long, the Soviets would have followed up their efficient military takeover with an equally efficient installation of a ruling order more to their liking. Instead, they placed the country in a state of suspended political animation, letting a surrounded Parliament continue to meet, permitting "detained" leaders to go on bargaining. Having gone all the way militarily...
...angels who wear white robes with white wings. They too have bond hair and blue eyes. I can remember very vividly how my mother used to tell me all about the hangups of life. She would sit me down sometimes and explain from the scripture, "Christ had hair like unto that of sheep's wool and as white as snow," she would say. "The hair of all Black people turns white at an old age (what we call gray hair)." She would go on to say that only the hair of Blacks was knotty and kinky like sheep's wool...
...disagree completely with your article on The Gun [June 21], but I will defend unto death your right to say it with a rock, poker or some other hard object. FRED L. NORMANDIN JR. Forest Grove...
...tree written in the tea leaves I see the words: JESUS SAVES. So, appropriately, I pray to be saved, to be delivered from the tedium of the lecture halls, to be thrown out into the real world where real things happen to fleshandblood people. But soft, a voice harkens unto me: SON, FORGET IT. "It ain't so great to be on the outside," the logic flows, "stay awhile and be protected by mother Harvard." And so I remain ambivalent, undecided, shuttling in that twilight betwixt the real and the unreal...
THERE is no music like that music, no drama like the drama of the saints rejoicing, the sinners moaning, the tambourines racing, and all those voices coming together and crying holy unto the Lord. I have never seen anything to equal the fire and excitement that sometimes, without warning, fill a church, causing the church, as Leadbelly and so many others have testified, to "rock." Nothing that has happened to me since equals the power and the glory that I sometimes felt when . . . the church and I were one. Their pain and their joy were mine, and mine were theirs...