O God — please give him back! I shall keep asking You.

You don't have to be in the habit of going to church to listen to such a literary minister; you don't have to be a believer to be moved by Mr. Buechner's faith.

The gardener had a dread of small women; he'd always imagined them to have an anger disproportionate to their size.

If you presume to love something, you must love the process of it much more than you love the finished product.

My dear boy, please don’t put a label on me—don’t make me a category before you get to know me!

All his life he would hold this moment as exemplary of what love was. It was not wanting anything more, nor was it expecting people to exceed what they had just accomplished; it was simply feeling so complete.

It's my experience that very few writers, young or old, are really seeking advice when they give out their work to be read. They want support; they want someone to say, "Good job."