I want to do for you what the spring does for the cherry trees
Life has puffed and blown itself into a summer day, and clouds and spring billow over the heavens as if calendars were a listing of mathematical errors.
She quietly expected great things to happen to her, and no doubt that’s one of the reasons why they did.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
Look closer and you'll see something extraordinary, mystifying, something real and true. We have never been what we seemed.
The Flapper awoke from her lethargy of sub-deb-ism, bobbed her hair, put on her choicest pair of earrings and a great deal of audacity and rouge and went into the battle. She flirted because it was fun to flirt and wore a one-piece bathing suit because she had a good figure she was conscious that the things she did were the things she had always wanted to do. Mothers disapproved of their sons taking the Flapper to dances, to teas, to swim and most of all to heart.
I don't want to live. I want to love first, and live incidentally.
Anyone who has ever taken out a mortgage will be unsurprised to learn that it is, literally, a death pledge.
A Christian woman's true freedom lies on the other side of a very small gate. . . humble obedience. . . but that gate leads out into a largeness of life undreamed of by the liberators of the world, to a place where the God-given differentiation between the sexes is not obfuscated but celebrated, where our inequalities are seen as essential to the image of God, for it is in male and female, in male as male and female as female, not as two identical and interchangeable halves, that the image is manifested.
A homeless guy came up to me on the street, said he hadn't eaten in four days. I told him, "Man, I wish I had your willpower.
We should be so joyful from God's grace that others would respond by saying, 'I wish I had your God.