I spend most of my time alone, because I so value and thrive in the quiet. Heaven.

Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.

Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns.

Dogs are the closest we come to knowing the divine love of God on this side of eternity.

... the reason life works at all is that not everyone in your tribe is nuts on the same day. [pp. 65-66]

Sometimes I think that Jesus watches my neurotic struggles, and shakes his head and grips his forehead and starts tossing back mojitos.

Nothing heals us like letting people know our scariest parts: When people listen to you cry and lament, and look at you with love, it's like they are holding the baby of you.

Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.

I thought the secret of life was obvious: be here now, love as if your whole life depended on it, find your life's work, and try to get hold of a giant panda.

Human lives are hard, even those of health and privilege, and don't make much sense. This is the message of the Book of Job: Any snappy explanation of suffering you come up with will be horseshit.

If hope is a feeling that can defeat fear, then at that time I walked uphill through a bed of snow, my tracks were of joyful determination.

I think we’re losing sight of what our ultimate goal is here, ” said Genevieve. But we feared that if she was washed out, people would look right past the flyer.

The butterfly counts not months but moments And has time enough.

Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.

I think well-read people - the world is open to them.

And that one is gone. A home run for Mickey Mantle! How do you like that?

I don't need glasses, but I've just reached the age where curiosity is greater than vanity.

Never knowingly leave anything wrong on your canvas.

You can't start at the top.

Mine be a cot beside the hill; A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near.