The fault we admit to is seldom the fault we have, but it has a certain relationship to it, a somewhat similar shape, like that of a sleeve to an arm.
A perfect marriage is one in which "I'm sorry" is said just often enough.
We catch frightful glimpses of ourselves in the hostile eyes of others.
Love is often gentle, desire always a rage.
Don't look for God where He is needed most; if you didn't bring Him there, He isn't there.
The excesses of love soon pass, but its insufficiencies torment us forever.