Cynically speaking, one could say that it is true to life to be cynical about it.
There is no love which does not become help.
For love ... is the blood of life, the power of reunion in the separated.
I hope for the day when everyone can speak again of God without embarrassment.
We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea. Without words they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea.
The vitality that can stand the abyss of meaninglessness is aware of a hidden meaning within the destruction of meaning.