Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into joy? Should we not reply, With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleansed first. It may hurt, you know-even so, sir.

The world was made partly that there may be prayer; partly that our prayers might be answered.

In worship, God imparts himself to us.

Pride, on the other hand, is the mother of all sins, and the original sin of lucifer.... An instrument strung, but preferring to play itself because it thinks it knows the tune better than the Musician

I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, hoever, turns out to be not a state but a process.

Write about what really interests you, whether it is real things or imaginary things, and nothing else.

Eating and reading are two pleasures that combine admirably.