Quotes about Clay

The real threat to society is darkness. Humanity is our common lot. All men are made of the same clay. There is no difference, at least here on earth, in the fate assigned to us. We come of the same void, inhabit the same flesh, are dissolved in the same ashes. But ignorance infecting the human substance turns it black, and that incurable blackness, gaining possession of the soul, becomes Evil.

Humanity is identity. All men are made of the same clay. There is no difference, here below, at least, in predestination. The same shadow in front, the same flesh in the present, the same ashes afterwards. But ignorance, mingled with the human paste, blackens it. This incurable blackness takes possession of the interior of a man and is there converted into evil.

The sole social evil is darkness; humanity is identity, for all men are made of the same clay.

We have this treasure in clay jars, so that this extraordinary power may be from God and not from us. 2 Corinthians 4:7

You have turned things around, as if the potter were the same as the clay. Isaiah 29:16

It's exciting to have a role in anything that's Claymation, just because you're always intrigued by what a clay wizard version of yourself would be.

Without realizing it, they're like clay telling the potter that they know more about pottery than he does and that they can form themselves into pots on their own (Is 29:16).

Cease, stranger, cease those witching notes, The art of syren choirs; Hush the seductive voice that floats Across the trembling wires. Music's ethereal power was given Not to dissolve our clay, But draw Promethean beams from heaven To purge the dross away.

the potter forms his vessels for himself. Let man strive with his Maker as he will, the fact remains that he is nothing more than clay in the Heavenly Potter's hands, and while we know that God will deal justly with His creatures, that the Judge of all the earth will do right, nevertheless, He shapes His vessels for His own purpose and according to His own pleasure.

Oh, God, You have given me a vacant soul, an untaught conscience, a life of clay. Put Your big hands around mine and guide my hands as a teacher guides the childish fingers that hold their first crayon, so that everytime I make a mark on this life, it will be Your mark. When my hands mold this clay, may the impressions be, in reality, made by the movement of Your hands and directed by Your perfect thoughts.

My Father gave In charge to me This child of earth E'en from its birth, To serve and save, Alleluia, And saved is he. This child of clay To me was given, To rear and train By sorrow and pain In the narrow way, Alleluia, From earth to heaven.

This formation of man from soft clay, and of woman from a hard bone, also illustrated why man was so much more easily reconcilable than woman.