For many of us the march from Selma to Montgomery was about protest and prayer. Legs are not lips and walking is not kneeling. And yet our legs uttered songs. Even without words, our march was worship. I felt my legs were praying.

He who is satisfied has never truly craved, and he who craves for the light of God neglects his ease for ardor.

To pray is to take notice of the wonder, to regain a sense of the mystery that animates all beings, the divine margin in all attainments.

Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.

(People) can never attain fulfillment, or sense of meaning, unless it is shared, unless it pertains to other human beings.

I did not ask for success; I asked for wonder.

Solitude is a necessary protest to the incursions and the false alarms of society's hysteria, a period of cure and recovery.