We do not have to understand in order to believe that behind the mystery and the fascination there is love.

We do have to use our minds as far as they will take us, yet acknowledging that they cannot take us all the way.

If we don't pray according to the needs of the heart, we repress our deepest longings. Our prayers may not be rational, and we may be quite aware of that, but if we repress our needs, then those unsaid prayers will fester.

Our story is never written in isolation. We do not act in a one-man play. We can do nothing that does not affect other people, no matter how loudly we say, "It's my own business.

I rebel against death, yet I know that it is how I respond to death's inevitability that is going to make me less or more fully alive.

Stories are like children. They grow in their own way.

If she could give love to IT perhaps it would shrivel up and die, for she was sure that IT could not withstand love.