Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?

To please God… to be a real ingredient in the divine happiness… to be loved by God, not merely pitied, but delighted in as an artist delights in his work or a father in a son- it seems impossible, a weight or burden of glory which our thoughts can hardly sustain. But so it is.

In coming to understand anything we are rejecting the facts as they are for us in favour of the facts as they are.

It seems to me that we often, almost sulkily, reject the good that God offers us because, at that moment, we expected some other good.

Always winter but never Christmas.

Grief. The pain now is part of the happiness then. That's the deal.

I never see why we should do anything unless it is either a duty or a pleasure! Life's short enough without filling up hours unnecessarily