What the world, social and political, concrete and mental, really needs is not new things, but the old things made new.

there was not a tree on the place, only the horrible prickly pear bushes thrusting out their distorted arms as if exulting in their own nakedness.

we are all given the ingredients of happiness, but the mixing is left to ourselves.

Quite a small spoke is enough to stop a wheel - even a mighty big wheel - if it's going too fast.

People have a way of thinking that everything is finished when the very best of all may yet be in store.

Promises were made for people who do not trust each other.

What we once fling away never comes again to us.