Man has never been the same since God died.

Strange how few, After alls said and done, the things that are Of moment.

And must I then, indeed, Pain, live with you all through my life?-sharing my fire, my bed, Sharing-oh, worst of all things!-the same head?- And, when I feed myself, feeding you too?

The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.

You wrote me a beautiful letter, I wonder if you meant it to be as beautiful as it was. I think you did; for somehow I know that your feeling for me, however slight it is, is of the nature of love... When you tell me to come, I will come, by the next train, just as I am. This is not meekness, be assured; I do not come naturally by meekness; know that it is a proud surrender to You.

Life isn't all beer and skittles; few of us have touched a skittle in years.

A grave is such a quiet place.