What Are You Going To Do With

God Makes The World Not Out Of Necessity But By A Divine Whim, And The World He Makes Is A Whimsically Romantic Place. We're All Crazy About Each Other Because We're Made In The Image Of Someone Who's Been Crazy About Us.

Older Women Are Like Aging Strudels - The Crust May Not Be So Lovely, But The Filling Has Come At Last Into Its Own.

But All The While, There Was One Thing We Most Needed Even From The Start, And Certainly Will Need From Here On Out Into The New Jerusalem: The Ability To Take Our Freedom Seriously And Act On It, To Live Not In Fear Of Mistakes But In The Knowledge That No Mistake Can Hold A Candle To The Love That Draws Us Home. My Repentance, Accordingly, Is Not So Much For My Failings But For The Two-bit Attitude Toward Them By Which I Made Them More Sovereign Than Grace. Grace - The Imperative To Hear The Music, Not Just Listen For Errors - Makes All Infirmities Occasions Of Glory.

The Bread And The Pastry, The Cheeses And Wine, And The Sugar Go Into The Supper Of The Lamb Because We Do. It Is Our Love That Brings The City Home. It Is I Grant You, An Incautious And Extravagant Hope. But Only Outlandish Hopes Can Make Themselves At Home.

We Are So Impressed By Scientific Clank That We Feel We Ought Not To Say That The Sunflower Turns Because It Knows Where The Sun Is. It Is Almost Second Nature To Us To Prefer Explanations . . . With A Large Vocabulary. We Are Much More Comfortable When We Are Assured That The Sunflower Turns Because It Is Heliotropic. The Trouble With That Kind Of Talk Is That It Tempts Us To Think That We Know What The Sunflower Is Up To. But We Don't. The Sunflower Is A Mystery, Just As Every Single Thing In The Universe Is.