We poison the wine as He decants it into us; murder a melody He would play with us as the instrument...Hence all sin, whatever else it is, is sacrilege.

But I remember more dearly autumn afternoons in bottoms that lay intensely silent under old great trees

I write for the unlearned about things in which I am unlearned myself.

Dearest Daughter. I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.

Above all, do not attempt to use science (I mean, the real sciences) as a defence against Christianity. They will positively encourage him to think about realities he can’t touch and see.

Well, whatever they say, you don't feel like ghosts.

Now God, who has made us, knows what we are and that our happiness lies in Him.