The problem of reconciling human suffering with the existence of a God who loves, is only insoluble so long as we attach a trivial meaning to the word "love."

I think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense. It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought feeling after feeling action after action had H. for their object. Now their target is gone. I keep on through habit fitting an harrow to the string then I remember and have to lay the bow down. So many roads lead through to H. I set out on one of them. But now there's an impassable frontier-post across it. So many roads once now so many culs de sac.

What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.

Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.

I suggest to you that it is because God loves us that he gives us the gift of suffering. Pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world. You see, we are like blocks of stone out of which the Sculptor carves the forms of men. The blows of his chisel, which hurt us so much are what make us perfect.

If God thinks this state of war in the universe a price worth paying for free will...then we may take it it is worth paying.

Only a bad person needs to repent: only a good person can repent perfectly.