Reason is the natural order of truth; but imagination is the organ of meaning.

No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart.

When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand.

God is the only comfort, He is also the supreme terror: the thing we most need and the thing we most want to hide from.

Remember that all worlds draw to an end and that noble death is a treasure which no one is too poor to buy.

A promise must be about actions: no one can promise to go on feeling a certain way.