Words are important to me. I listen to each one, weigh and measure it. If I cannot trust your words, how can I trust you?
Come to think of it, she did not speak a word. Yet I could have sworn she had the most beautiful voice.
When you set yourself on fire, people love to come and see you burn.
At the door he turned and looked back. She stood, facing away from him, the sunlight from the window enshrouding her in an unmerited halo of gold. Perhaps, he thought, that was how God saw all His children. Selfish and fallen, yes. But in the forgiving light of His Son, each wore an unmerited halo.
I have been praying, too, for the first time in my life. That parson, Tugwell, he helped me see – not the error of my ways, for I knew them all to well already – but what was wanting in me. I am far from perfect, I know, but I am changed and changing still.