We Never Remember Days, Only Moments.

Things Are Revealed Through The Memories We Have Of Them. Remembering A Thing Means Seeing It Only Then For The First Time.

Anchorites Used To Ill-treat Themselves In The Way They Did, So That The Common People Would Not Begrudge Them The Beatitude They Would Enjoy In Heaven.

The Face Of The Night Will Be An Old Wound That Reopens Each Evening, Impassive And Living. The Distant Silence Will Ache Like A Soul, Mute, In The Dark. We'll Speak To The Night As It's Whispering Softly.

A Love Thought: I Love You So Much That I Could Wish I Had Been Born Your Brother, Or Had Brought You Into The World Myself.

The Only Reason Why We Are Always Thinking Of Our Own Ego Is That We Have To Live With It More Continuously Than With Anyone Else's.