We catch frightful glimpses of ourselves in the hostile eyes of others.
Hope is the feeling we have that the feeling we have is not permanent.
How tired God must be of guilt and loneliness, for that is all we ever bring to Him.
Love looks forward, hate looks back, anxiety has eyes all over its head.
The young do not need God, and the old cannot find Him.
Loneliness, insomnia, and change: the fear of these is even worse than the reality.
Those who are brutally honest are seldom so with themselves.
When hope is hungry, everything feeds it.
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