What gets me back to church, I think, is thinking maybe this time that question "Is it true?" will be answered, not just in terms of somebody saying, "Yes, it's true," but something will happen in a sermon or maybe shuffling up to the Eucharist, or in the old lady who's sitting beside me with a Bible - maybe something will happen which will show me that it's true. So I go back thinking, maybe this time I'll be lucky.

What's lost is nothing to what's found, and all the death that ever was, set next to life, would scarcely fill a cup.

We must be careful with our lives, for Christ's sake, because it would seem that they are the only lives we are going to have in this puzzling and perilous world, and so they are very precious and what we do with them matters enormously.

All other days have either disappeared into darkness and oblivion or not yet emerged from it. Today is the only day there is.

Sin and grace, absence and presence, tragedy and comedy, they divide the world between them and where they meet head on, the Gospel happens.

There is no event so common place but that God is present within it, always hidden, always leaving you room to recognize Him or not to recognize Him.

You can't be too careful what you tell a child because you never know what he'll take hold of and spend the rest of his life remembering you by.