Ye cannot know eternal reality by a definition. Time itself, and all the acts and events that fill time are the definition, and it must be lived.

An Ulster Scot may come to disbelieve in God, but not to wear his weekday clothes on the Sabbath.

There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.

And I say also this. I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes.

Miracles do not, in fact, break the laws of nature.

The gap between those who worship different gods is not so wide as the gap between those who worship and those who don't.

If you picture Time as a straight line along which we have to travel, then you must think of God as the whole page on which the line is drawn.