Our problem is not that we desire too much but too little.

Each day we are becoming a creature of splendid glory or one of unthinkable horror.

It was when I was happiest that I longed most...The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing...to find the place where all the beauty came from.

We can rest contentedly in our sins and in our stupidities, and anyone who has watched gluttons shoveling down the most exquisite foods as if they did not know what they were eating will admit that we can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.

We were made not primarily that we may love God, but that God may love us.

What would really satisfy us would be a God who said of anything we happened to like doing, 'What does it matter so long as they are contented?'

We are...a Divine work of art, something that God is making...something with which He will not be satisfied until it has a certain character.