“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”

The fact that our heart yearns for something Earth can’t supply is proof that Heaven must be our home.

He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less.

In such a fearful world, we need a fearless church.

You can’t go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

Nothing you have not given away will ever really be yours.

If you never take risks, you’ll never accomplish great things. Everybody dies, but not everyone has lived.

What draws people to be friends is that they see the same truth. They share it.

She’s the sort of woman who lives for others – you can tell the others by their hunted expression.

Mere change is not growth. Growth is the synthesis of change and continuity, and where there is no continuity there is no growth.

Education without values, as useful as it is, seems rather to make man a more clever devil.

If you live for the next world, you get this one in the deal; but if you live only for this world, you lose them both.

Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good.

God wants a child’s heart and a grownup’s head.

Adventures are never fun while you’re having them.

For pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense.

We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it.

One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed.

I believe in the power of laughter and tears as an antidote to hatred and terror.

Take off your bedroom slippers, put on your marching shoes. Shake it off. Stop complaining, stop grumbling, stop crying. We are going to press on. We’ve got work to do.

Remember me and smile, for it’s better to forget than to remember me and cry.

I always like walking in the rain, so no one can see me crying.

No one can tell if I’m laughing or weeping.

Prayer is the song of the heart. It reaches the ear of God even if it is mingled with the cry and the tumult of a thousand men.

I lay in bed at night crying to myself. The only one who loved me and watched over me was someone I couldn’t see or hear or touch.