God is everywhere: yes, but how dim faith is, what a remote idea heaven is, in the modern world!

The sense of the joy in anything is the sense of Christ.

Christ asks for a home in your soul, where he can be at rest with you, where he can talk easily to you, where you and he, alone together, can laugh and be silent and be delighted with one another.

God speaks silently, God speaks in your heart; if your heart is noisy, chattering, you will not hear.

In every passerby, everywhere - Christ . . . He is in everyone - there can be no outcasts.

We are only syllables of the perfect Word.

The love for material things grows like a fungus in the soul and destroys the loveliness of the human heart utterly.

There is no way of learning of God except through the adventure of our own heart.

We are the mediocre, we are the half givers, we are the half lovers, we are the savourless salt. Break the hard crust of complacency. Quicken in us the sharp grace of desire.

Powerful to alleviate, to delay, to camouflage, though money is, in the end it lets us down.

We are united to Him, we are one, and it is when His Passion becomes real to us, through experience and love, that we grow aware of His presence in us.

Her eyes were full of hate. Full. And... at the same time, empty. Soulless. Like those horrible creatures she keeps around her. The dragon was frightening... but Maleficent, she was bone-chilling.

Jumping out of a perfectly good air plane is like driving through life without a good set of brakes.

How you start is important, but it is how you finish that counts. In the race for success, speed is less important than stamina. The sticker outlasts the sprinter.

I won't go back on my decision. I'm not afraid of prison, but there are even worse dangers.

Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.

We're as good at talking ourselves out of fear as into it, aren't we? Maybe better.

Every society by its own practice of living and by the mode of relatedness, of feelings, and perceiving, develops a system of categories which determines the forms of awareness.

I do not know what I think until I write it.

Miracle is the pet child of faith.

Nature is an old lady with few friends these days, and those who wish to make use of her charms, she rewards passionately.