He'd gone to church for forty years and was only getting worse. It seemed like this should tell God something.

There's release in knowing the truth no matter how anguishing it is. You come finally to the irreducible thing, and there's nothing left to do but pick it up and hold it. Then, at last, you can enter the severe mercy of acceptance.

The hardest thing on earth is choosing what matters.

God is at the tip of our scalpels, our screwdrivers, our computer terminals, our dust rags, our vacuum cleaners, our pencils and pens. He is with us in our wheelchairs, or on our hospital beds, when all we can do is sit or lie flat. When we envision Him and His purpose in what we do, then we begin to grow aware of His presence in the middle of it. We are able to engage in our inward conversation with Him as we work, naturally, without strain. He becomes our partner, our collaborator.

I know you've run away - everybody gets the urge to do that some time - but sooner or later you'll want to go home.

All my life I've thought I needed someone to complete me, now I know I need to belong to myself.

Everybody needs a seashell in her bathroom to remind her the ocean is her home.