On the bookshelf of life, God is a useful work of reference, always at hand but seldom consulted.

Time goes by, reputation increases, ability declines.

God does not die on the day when we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.

When you have reached the point where you no longer expect a response, you will at last be able to give in such a way that the other is able to receive, and be grateful. When Love has matured and, through a dissolution of the self into light, become a radiance, then shall the Lover be liberated from dependence upon the Beloved, and the Beloved also be made perfect by being liberated from the Lover.

The life of simplicity is simple, but it opens to us a book in which we never get beyond the first syllable.

Creative people have to be fed from the divine source.

What you must dare: is to be yourself.