The demon of acedia -- also called the noonday demon -- is the one that causes the most serious trouble of all. . . . He makes it seem that the sun barely moves, if at all, and . . . he instills in the heart of the monk a hatred for the place, a hatred for his very life itself.

I sense that striving for wholeness is, increasingly, a countercultural goal, as fragmented people make for better consumers.

Over and over again mediocrity is promoted because real worth isn't to be found.

Peace - that was the other name for home.

I was taught that I had to 'master' subjects. But who can 'master' beauty, or peace, or joy?

If we are lucky, we can give in and rest without feeling guilty. We can stop doing and concentrate on being.

They are fruit and transport: ripening melons, prairie schooners journeying under full sail.