All We Are Asked To Bear We

The Lovers Of Life, They Are Children At Heart Always In Their Wonder And Delight, But They Do Not Grab.

Jean Was Visited By One Of Her Rare Moments Of Happiness, One Of Those Moments When The Goodness Of God Was So Real To Her That It Was Like Taste And Scent; The Rough Strong Taste Of Honey In The Comb And The Scent Of Water. Her Thoughts Of God Had A Homeliness That At Times Seemed Shocking, In Spite Of Their Power, Which Could Rescue Her From Terror Or Evil With An Ease That Astonished Her.

There Always Comes, I Think, A Sort Of Peak In Suffering At Which Either You Win Over Your Pain Or Your Pain Wins Over You, According As To Whether You Can, Or Cannot, Call Up That Extra Ounce Of Endurance That Helps You To Break Through The Circle Of Yourself And Do The Hitherto Impossible. That Extra Ounce Carries You Through 'le Dernier Quart D' Heure.' Psychologist Have A Name For It, I Believe. Christians Call It The Grace Of God.

If You Lose Your Reason, You Lose It Into The Hands Of God....it's The Only Place Where Anything Is Safe. And When You're Dead It's Only What's There You'll Have. Nothing Else.

There Was A Good Deal To Be Said, Hilary Decided, For Middle Age And Infirmity. The Years In Which One Demanded Much Of Life Were Left Behind, Together With The Bitterness Of Not Getting What One Wanted. One's Values, Too, Were Altered. Gifts That Once One Took For Granted, Sunshine And Birdsong, Freedom From Pain, Sleep And One's Daily Bread, Seemed Now So Extraordinarily Precious.