There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
I'd come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language.
My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I'm going to sleep.
I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity.
Man is the being whose project it is to be God.
Never have I thought that I was the happy possessor of a "talent;" my sole concern has been to save myself by work and faith.