[Something] does not rise to the dignity of error.
Hatred obscures all distinctions.
But I remember more dearly autumn afternoons in bottoms that lay intensely silent under old great trees
Nothing can seem extraordinary until you have discovered what is ordinary.
The problem of reconciling human suffering with the existence of a God who loves, is only insoluble so long as we attach a trivial meaning to the word "love."
Write about what really interests you, whether it is real things or imaginary things, and nothing else. (Notice this means that if you are interested only in writing you will never be a writer, because you will have nothing to write about...)