Our father. We have killed him, and we will kill him again, and our world will kill him. And yet he is there. It is he who listens at the door. It is he who is coming. It is our father who is about to be born. Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I don't know that it makes any difference whether it's at this time or a hundred years before or a hundred years later. I think always it's a matter of simply listen[ing] to what is going on around you and in your own experience. Try to understand what's happening, or if not to understand it, at least to appreciate the reality of it.

For as long as you remember me, I am never entirely lost.

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.

Words spoken in deep love or deep hate set things in motion in the human heart that can never be reversed.

the story of any one of us is in some measure the story of us all

Prayers out of, very often, not the most religious part of me, but the most anxious part of me, the most desperately loving, fearing part of me.