We're miserable because we think that we are mere individuals, alone with our fears and flaws and resentment and mortality.

You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestation of your own blessings.

I consider a good dinner party at our house to be where people drink and eat more than they're meant to.

A lovely evening of new idioms and fresh mozzarella.

Balance is not letting anyone love you less than you love yourself.

When Catherine told me about this (tragedy nearby), I could only say, shocked, "Dear God, that family needs grace." She replied firmly, "That family needs casseroles," and then proceeded to organize the entire neighborhood into bringing that family dinner, in shifts, every single night, for an entire year. I do not know if my sister fully recognizes that this _is_ grace.

But why must everything have a practical application? I'd been such a diligent soldier for years - working, producing, never missing a deadline, taking care of my loved ones, my gums and my credit record, voting, etc. Is this lifetime supposed to be only about duty? In this dark period of loss, did I need any justification for learning Italian other than that it was the only thing I could imagine bringing me any pleasure right now?