One can never pay in gratitude; one can only pay 'in kind' somewhere else in life.

Why is it that you can sometimes feel the reality of people more keenly through a letter than face to face?

God may want you to be the answer to your own prayer.

It's funny how you can be mad at someone one moment and want to hug them the next.

For sleep, one needs endless depths of blackness to sink into; daylight is too shallow, it will not cover one.

Perhaps middle-age is, or should be, a period of shedding shells; the shell of ambition, the shell of material accumulations and possessions, the shell of the ego.

How hard it is to have the beautiful interdependence of marriage and yet be strong in oneself alone.