The mercy of the world is time. Time does not stop for love, but it does not stop for death and grief, either.

Beware the machinery of longevity. When a man's life is over the decent thing is for him to die. The forest does not withhold itself from death. What it gives up it takes back.

I lack the peace of simple things. I am never wholly in place. I find no peace or grace. We sell the world to buy fire, our way lighted by burning men.

Beauty . . . cannot be interpreted. It is not an empirically verifiable fact; it is not a quantity.

One cannot be aware both of the history of Christian war and of the contents of the gospels without feeling that something is amiss.

What I stand for is what I stand on.

It is to be broken. It is to be torn open. It is not to be reached and come to rest in ever. I turn against you, I break from you, I turn to you. We hurt, and are hurt, and have each other for healing. It is healing. It is never whole.