Mysterious as it may be, there is something wonderful at the heart of our existence, and it is about nothing other than love; love for God, love for one another, love for creation, love for life itself.

Blessings sometimes come through brokenness that could never come in any other way.

In every feeling, look deeply. Explore without ceasing. At bottom, love is.

Grief is neither a disorder nor a healing process; it is a sign of health itself, a whole and natural gesture of love. Nor must we see grief as a step toward something better. No matter how much it hurts-and it may be the greatest pain in life-grief can be an end in itself, a pure expression of love.

The difference between work and play is only a matter of attitude. Work, fully done, is play.

But love's true nature remains forever beyond the grasp of all our faculties. It is far greater than any feeling or emotion and completely surpasses any act of human kindness. It is the one sheer gift of contemplation, completely unattainable by autonomous human effort. The realization of this love always remains mysterious.

I would prefer a thousand mistakes in extravagance of love to any paralysis in wariness of fear.