Fundamentally, [prayer] is a position, a placement of oneself.

Time, we like to say, cures all. But maybe the old saying doesn’t mean time heals. Time cures a secret in its brine, keeping it and finally, paradoxically, destroying it. Nothing is left in that salt solution but the pain or rage, the biting shame that lodged it there. Even they are diluted or denied.

You can’t put much on paper before you betray your secret self, try as you will to keep things civil.

What is remembered is what becomes reality.

I could tell you stories-if only stories could tell what I have in me to tell.

The real subject of autobiography is not one's experience but one's consciousness. Memoirists use the self as a tool.

Prayer as focus is not a way of limiting what can be seen; it is a habit of attention brought to bear on all that is.