“I know the light, but I cannot see it.”

Even the rain could be the answer to your prayers.

You and that love you carry. Like fresh rivers. Like new poetry.

We are ever blossoming.

Some days each breath just lie stuck in your chest, you know?

Love shouldn’t be as fickle as the rain. But an ever flowing torrent.

Remember forgiveness; a kind exhale.

I think there is miracle always spilling into something.

Let us be the impossible.

Honestly, I just want to love without the fear of losing anything.

Yes, there are wounds but we are not conquered.

When you hold my hand and it feels like a fresh dream.

There is always a bit of love whispering from somewhere.

But when has worry ever produced a miracle?

But I must admit. I am desperate for hope.

Tell me, what is hope if not a sweet, sweet companion?

Falling apart to fall together again.

And if these incidents now seem full of significance and all of a piece, it’s probably because I’m looking at them in the light of what came later.

Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov’d, that lov’d not at first sight?

There’s none so blind as they that won’t see.

As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.

It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,’ he answered. ‘Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer—but yours! How can I?

Once you start changing a name, you see, there’s no reason ever to stop. One always hears one that sounds better.

My experiences with science led me to God. They challenge science to prove the existence of God. But must we really light a candle to see the sun?

For I hope my Friends will pardon me, when I declare, I know none of them without a Fault; and I should be sorry if I could imagine, I had any Friend who could not see mine. Forgiveness, of this Kind, we give and demand in Turn.