People from a planet without flowers would think we must be mad with joy the whole time to have such things about us.

Real worship involves waiting.

We need a moral philosophy in which the concept of love, so rarely mentioned now by philosophers, can once again be made central.

Another person's illness is often harder to bear than one's own.

How different each death is, and yet it leads us into the self-same country, that country which we inhabit so rarely, where we see the worthlessness of what we have long pursued and will so soon return to pursuing.

The human soul is not framed for continued proximity, and the result of this enforced neighbourhood is often an appalling loneliness for which the rules of the game forbid assuagement.

Reading and writing and the preservation of language and its forms and the kind of eloquence and the kind of beauty which the language is capable of is terribly important to the human beings because this is connected to thought.