I could become like that dyslexic agnostic in the old joke - the one who lies in bed and tries to figure out if his dog exists.

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.

Shrug off the no’s – they are temporary. This is your world. In your world there is only yes.

A data bank holding all the information that is in this universe can be found in God

You’ll have me, ” Cam whispered. “You’ll have me, hummingbird. I’m your fate— even if you won’t admit it yet.

No man is good enough to govern another man without that other's consent.

You know, Alexia started, “I will be deeply disappointed if the apocalypse starts in Portsmouth.

A twinge at the edge of her lips and she continued, the soft, slow lilt of recitation: "Ancient walls that sing the distant hours.

I'm writing for those people in Kenya, but in Irvine and in New York.

If there is one thing I've learned in my short life, it's this: Never repress anything.

To grow is sometimes to hurt, but who would return to smallness?

But what are wishes, compared with longings?