I have discovered, passionate grief does not link us with the dead but cuts us off from them. This becomes clearer and clearer. It is just at those moments when I feel least sorrow - getting into my morning bath is usually one of them - that H. rushes upon my mind in her full reality, her otherness. Not, as in my worst moments, all foreshortened and patheticized and solemnized by my miseries, but as she is in her own right. This is good and tonic.

All men alike stand condemned, not by alien codes of ethics, but by their own, and all men therefore are conscious of guilt.

We are finite and God will not call us everywhere or to support every worthy cause. And real needs are not far from us.

You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

Obedience is the road to freedom.

If we only have the will to walk, then God is pleased with our stumbles.

I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death.