Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Whoever is still seeking for miracles so that he may believe is himself a wonder, who does not believe while the world around him does.

Sin is Energy in the wrong channel.

What is grace? I know until you ask me; when you ask me, I do not know.

The greatest evil is physical pain.

Other sins find their vent in the accomplishment of evil deeds, whereas pride lies in wait for good deeds, to destroy them.

Attract them by the way you live.