Christ asks for a home in your soul, where he can be at rest with you, where he can talk easily to you, where you and he, alone together, can laugh and be silent and be delighted with one another.

In every passerby, everywhere - Christ . . . He is in everyone - there can be no outcasts.

Powerful to alleviate, to delay, to camouflage, though money is, in the end it lets us down.

Most people know the sheer wonder that goes with falling in love, how not only does everything in heaven and earth become new, but the lover himself becomes new. It is literally like the sap rising in the tree, putting forth new green shoots of life.

God speaks silently, God speaks in your heart; if your heart is noisy, chattering, you will not hear.

It is part of God's plan for us that Christ shall come to us in everyone; it is in their particular role that we must learn to know him. He may come as a little child, making enormous demands, giving enormous consolation. He may come as a stranger, so that we must give the hospitality to a stranger that we should like to give to Christ.

We are only syllables of the perfect Word.