Routine is worry's sly assassin.

Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.

Love is a strange fact - it hopes all things, believes all things, endures all things. It makes no sense at all.

You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.

Be careful whom you choose to hate. The small and the vulnerable own a protection great enough, if you could but see it, to melt you into jelly. Beware those who reside beneath the shadow of the Wings.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

Fresh peach pie can lift a bullying reprobate into apologetic courtesy; I have watched it happen.