God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains.

Love, while always forgiving of imperfections and mistakes, can never cease to will their removal.

The game is to have them all running about with fire extinguishers when there is a flood, and all crowding to that side of the boat which is already nearly gunwale under.

When the author walks on the stage the play is over. God is going to invade, all right...something so beautiful to some of us and so terrible to others that none of us will have any choice left? For this time it will be God without disguise...it will be too late then to choose your side. There is no use saying you choose to lie down when it has become impossible to stand up.

A noble hunger, long unsatisfied, met at last its proper food.

Thirty was so strange for me. I've really had to come to terms with the fact that I am now a walking and talking adult.

The greatest evil is not done in those sordid dens of evil that Dickens loved to paint ... but is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clear, carpeted, warmed, well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voices.