There are far too many people for us to think about each of them during our short stay on earth—like the thousands of books in a library we haven’t time to read in an afternoon. But this is no excuse to cease browsing. For every now and then, we find that one book that reaches us deep inside and introduces us to ourselves. And, in someone else’s story, we come to understand our own.

If the errors of my life have profited me one great truth it is this: believe. Believe in your destiny and the star from which it shines. Believe you have been sent from God as an arrow pulled from his own bow. It is the single universal trait which the great of this earth have all shared, while the shadows are fraught with ghosts who roam the winds with mournful wails of regret on their lips. Believe as if your life depended upon it, for indeed it does.

Raising or caring for children requires sacrifice and service, which, I believe, heals us from the destructive forces of self-centeredness.

Life is not a sprint. It was never meant to be. It is just a step of faith after another.

Books are the most tolerant of friends.

Small kindnesses often, unintentionally, produce the biggest payoffs.

Things that seem bad at the time are really blessings.