I don’t know much, but I understand how entirely doomed I am without God.
There is nothing you can buy, achieve, own, or rent that can fill up that hunger inside for a sense of fulfillment and wonder.
Having a baby is like suddenly getting the world’s worst roommate, like having Janis Joplin with a bad hangover and PMS come to stay with you.
If you have a problem you can solve by throwing money at it, you don’t have a very interesting problem.
Becoming a writer is about becoming conscious.
Nothing can be delicious when you are holding your breath.
I still encourage anyone who feels at all compelled to write to do so. I just try to warn people who hope to get published that publication is not all it is cracked up to be. But writing is.
Pay attention to the beauty surrounding you.
Because this business of becoming conscious, of being a writer, is ultimately about asking yourself, How alive am I willing to be?
I didn’t need to understand the hypostatic unity of the Trinity; I just needed to turn my life over to whoever came up with redwood trees.
Teenagers who do not go to church are adored by God, but they don’t get to meet some of the people who love God back.
The opposite of faith is not doubt, it’s certainty.
Don’t look at your feet to see if you are doing it right. Just dance.
Certainty is missing the point entirely.
The thing about light is that it really isn’t yours; it’s what you gather and shine back. And it gets more power from reflectiveness; if you sit still and take it in, it fills your cup, and then you can give it off yourself.
Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.
When you make friends with fear, it can’t rule you.
I don’t want something special. I want something beautifully plain.
It’s good to do uncomfortable things. It’s weight training for life.
Almost all good writing begins with terrible first efforts. You need to start somewhere.