He was sick of God and God's religion, sick of all the little religious social clubs that didn't seem to make any real difference or affect any real changes.

Anger is the right response to something that is so wrong. But don't let the anger and pain and loss you feel prevent you from forgiving him and removing your hands from around his neck.

This life is only the anteroom of a greater reality to come.

I think that most creative fiction involves the transformational process, whether it is Dickens or Dostoyevsky and the writer in some sense is expressing their own journey through such a wilderness.

You are the root, and only God knows that the flower will be.

Love is not the limitation; love is the flying.

So many believe that it is love that grows, but it is the knowing that grows and love simply expands to contain it.