Corrigan told me once that Christ was quite easy to understand. He went where He was supposed to go. He stayed where He was needed. He took little or nothing along, a pair of sandals, a bit of a shirt, a few odds and ends to stave off the loneliness. He never rejected the world. If He had rejected it, He would have been rejecting mystery. And if He rejected mystery, He would have been rejecting faith.

He looks like the sort of man who can't afford to leave, and doesn't want to stay, and so he is doing both at once.

Part of me really wants to believe that hope is entirely available to all of us. We don't have to embrace it. It would be sentimental and silly to say that we all need it, but it is absolutely available to all of us.

There are moments we return to, now and always. Family is like water - it has a memory of what it once filled, always trying to get back to the original stream.

The repeated lies become history, but they don't necessarily become the truth.

Life must pass through difficulty in order to achieve any modicum of beauty.

I'm only telling you on the truth," he said. "If you can't stand the truth, don't ask for it.