He realized he needed strength, sustenance that couldn’t come from bread alone. He desperately needed God.

Isn’t that the way God works? She’d thought. He takes the things in our lives that are ugly, disgusting, and downright wicked, and transforms them into something magnificent.

My grace is sufficient for thee. The words soothed her soul like a healing balm.

...there is nothing unforgivable and there are no secrets before an all-knowing merciful God.

It would still be a long way until she was completely free, but the door had been cracked open and a smidgen of hope broke through the darkness.

It’s important to have a husband that lives and believes the same way you do. Otherwise, you’re asking for problems.

Moonlight filtered in through the blinds illuminating their bedroom, but the bright glow couldn’t penetrate the darkness that surrounded her heart.

She knew that oftentimes hurtful people were hurting people, so she determined to pray for them all the more.

Trust, once lost, could not be easily found. Not in a year, perhaps not even in a lifetime.

Choices made, whether bad or good, follow you forever and affect everyone in their path one way or another.

Look. Survey. Inspect. My hair is ruined! I look like a pan of bacon and eggs!

I recalled something I’d read a long time ago about Satan. When he appeared, it wouldn’t be as a demon but as an ordinary-looking guy with a convincing message of peace.

In the long run, we shape our lives, and we shape ourselves. The process never ends until we die. And the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.

It is not only fine feathers that make fine birds.

I'm not as impatient as I used to be. I used to hit people if I didn't like what they were saying. Just lash out. 'Bam - shut up! Hahahah!' I was terrible.

Even the photographs of Henri Cartier-Bresson, with all due respect to him, are notoriously burned and dodged.

I just want my music to measure up to. Part of it's just thinking about my place in history and how this music is going to be perceived, if it's listened to 30, 40 years from now.

The fact that anyone would find me sexy is very, very flattering, but ridiculous. I so don't believe it. But I'm flattered. Truth is, I don't lift a finger to look sexy. Ever.

It is not the hearing that improves life, but the listening.

Nostalgia is always doomed and dooming.