Reason is in fact the path to faith, and faith takes over when reason can say no more.

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.

‎"Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy.

The greatest need of our time is to clean out the enormous mass of mental and emotional rubbish that clutters our minds

Compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things.

In a world of noise, confusion and conflict it is necessary that there be places of silence, inner discipline and peace. In such places love can blossom.

People may spend their whole lives climbing the ladder of success only to find, once they reach the top, that the ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.

Love is not a matter of getting what you want. Quite the contrary. The insistence on always having what you want, on always being satisfied, on always being fulfilled, makes love impossible.

Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.

It is my belief, that we should not be too sure of having found Christ in ourselves until we have found him also in that part of humanity that is most remote from our own.

Poverty I am too beautiful to be like you. Sickness from the crown of my head to the sole of my feet, I belong to God.

You're going to find the people that make it work NEVER quit, quitting is NOT an option.

I remember leaving the hospital - thinking, 'Wait, are they going to let me just walk off with him? I don't know beans about babies! I don't have a license to do this.' We're just amateurs.

Money was their God; work their religion.

Some virtuous women are too liberal in their insults to a frail sister; but virtue can support itself without borrowing any assistance from the vices of other women.

I love her with a love as still As a broad river's peaceful might, Which by high tower and lowly mill, Goes wandering at its own will, And yet does ever flow aright.

It occurred to her suddenly, sharply, that she wanted to be in love... She wanted not to feel so damned alone in the world.

Looking back, I wince at the careless way I tossed out my opinions.

The world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours.

In this sequestered nook how sweet To sit upon my orchard seat And birds and flowers once more to greet. . . .