Man is to be understood only in his relationship to God.

Men propound mathematical theorems in besieged cities, conduct metaphysical arguments in condemned cells, make jokes on the scaffold, discuss a new poem while advancing to the walls of Quebec, and comb their hair at Thermopylae. This is not panache; it is our nature.

We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.

The very nature of Joy makes nonsense of our common distinction between having and wanting.

You have gone into the Temple...and found Him, as always, there.

I sometimes pray not for self-knowledge in general but for just so much self knowledge at the moment as I can bear and use at the moment; the little daily dose.

Provided that any of those neighbours sing out of tune or have boots that squeak, or double chins, or odd clothes, the patient will quite easily believe that their religion must therefore be somehow ridiculous.