Friendships do not grow up in any carefully tended and contemplated fashion.... They begin haphazard.

Living in a bookshop is like living in a warehouse of explosives. Those shelves are ranked with the most furious combustibles in the world--the brains of men.

I had a million questions to ask God: but when I met Him, they all fled my mind; and it didn't seem to matter.

The real purpose of books is to trap the mind into doing its own thinking.

No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does.

Men talk of "finding God," but no wonder it is difficult; He is hidden in that darkest hiding-place, your heart. You yourself are a part of Him.

The everlasting lure of round-the-corner, how fascinating it is.