What feeling in all the world is so nice as that of a child's hand in yours? It is soft. It is small and warm. It is as innocent and guileless as a rabbit or a puppy or a kitten huddling in the shelter of your clasp.

Prayer, to the thinking person, is almost inescapable.

Death is the perfect knowing.

Oh, God, give me grace for this day. Not for a lifetime, nor for next week, nor for tomorrow, just for this day. Direct my thoughts and bless them Direct my work and bless it. Direct the things I say and give them blessing, too. Direct and bless everything that I think and speak and do. So that for this one day, just this one day, I have the gift of grace that comes from your presence. . . .

Man is the only creature whose emotions are entangled with his memory.

poetry ... is another way to be hurled straight into the heart of God.

When you write from the heart, you not only light the dark path of your readers, you light your own way as well.