It's not your freedom to choose that makes you free. It's what you choose in that freedom that makes you free.

It is amazing where God will take you when you are willing to follow. Life is full of surprises when we choose mystery over security.

We are all hypocrites in transition. I am not who I want to be, but I am on the journey there, and thankfully I am not whom I used to be.

The church does not exist for us. We are the church, and we exist for the world.

I think a lot of us are not on a path; we're in a rut. We have confused comfort with peace, belief with faith, safety with wisdom, wealth with blessing, and existence with life.

God gives God-sized dreams to people with God-shaped hearts.

It is insanity to run from God and search for love.

The person who loves the process has a much greater chance of success than the person who loves the outcome.

The limitations you are willing to accept establish the boundaries of your existence.

Home is ultimately not about a place to live but about the people with whom you are most fully alive. Home is about love, relationship, community, and belonging, and we are all searching for home.

Your dreams are the product of your longings, a portrait of your potential, and a promise of your future.

Sometimes it was during the breaks that the real meditation happened - moments when it was obvious that wisdom is not something you have, but a wave-length you tune in to.

I said to him, "State your business, mortal!" There was no need for me to call him "mortal" or to speak like a sixteenth-century knight. It just sounded cool.

All things found their ends.

Freedom is poetry, taking liberties with words, breaking the rules of normal speech, violating common sense. Freedom is violence.

Like a christening, a wedding, a graduation ceremony, a holy war, a revolutioneven?a fireworksdisplay, agaudy promise of what life ought to be, not life itself.

You can't really write until the characters kind of show up one day and tell you what they're going to say. You start to hear the rhythm of the way the people talk, and then it becomes easier.

Practically anything you read or hear about racism, sexism, and homophobia is cant.

The spirit of the woods is like an old good friend, makes me feel warm and good inside. I knew his name and it was good to see him again, cause in the wind he's still alive.

Amidst one's daily clutter, one doesn't usually reflect on the splendour of being free because - naturally - one has to get on with the business of living.

And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.