There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.

I have been feeling very much lately that cheerful insecurity is what our Lord asks of us.

There have been men before who got so interested in proving the existence of God that they came to care nothing for God himself, as if the good Lord had nothing to do but to exist. There have been some who were so preoccupied with spreading Christianity that they never gave a thought to Christ.

We were promised sufferings. They were part of the program. We were even told, Blessed are they that morn.

In worship, God imparts himself to us.

It costs God nothing, so far as we know, to create nice things: but to convert rebellious wills cost Him crucifixion.

You can't really study people; you can only get to know them.