We human beings grow through our failures, not our virtues.

That's a sure way to tell about somebody--the way they play, or don't play, make-believe.

A lot of the shadow self is the home of poetry, story, prayer. My deepest understandings are often released from the part of me of which I am least aware most of the time.

If you're too happy about anything, fate usually gives you a good sock in the jaw and knocks you down.

I like to take the time out to listen to the trees, much in the same way that I listen to a sea shell, holding my ear against the rough bark of the trunk, hearing the inner singing of the sap. It's a lovely sound, the beating of the heart of the tree.

Rather than feeling lost and unimportant and meaningless, set against galaxies which go beyond the reach of the furthest telescopes, I feel that my life has meaning. Perhaps I should feel insignificant, but instead I feel a soaring in my heart that the God who could create all this — and out of nothing — can still count the hairs of my head.

But my memories are like a fire in winter—whenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them. —Ditta