Human beings, like plants, grow in the soil of acceptance, not in the atmosphere of rejection.
To tell you my thoughts is to locate myself in a category. To tell you about my feelings is to tell you about me.
Growth is always a gradual process, a bridge slowly crossed and not a corner sharply turned.
There is no fixed, true and real person inside of you or me, precisely because being a person necessarily implies becoming a person, being in process.
Our lives are shaped by those who love us.
Comparison is the death of true self-contentment.
God is to us like the sky to a small bird, which cannot see its outer limits and cannot reach its distant horizons, but can only lose itself in the greatness and immensity of the blueness.
Attitudes are capable of making the same experience either pleasant or painful.
Old cranks have practiced all their lives, just as old saints have likewise practiced all their lives. They just practiced different life principles.
By afflictions God is spoiling us of what otherwise might have spoiled us. When he makes the world too hot for us to hold, we let it go.
I have to be honest in asking myself: Do I really want to know and do God’s will? Or is it rather that I want God to do my will? Do I go to God with the assurance that I want only to know and do his will? Or do I rather first make my own plans and then insist that God make my dreams come true?
There’s the whole myth about rocket science. It’s really not that hard. It’s not brain surgery.
God alone can make a man a believer. Our part is to accept or reject his initiative.
There is no such thing as a peace of soul approach to religion. It makes of God a gigantic Bayer Aspirin; take God three times a day and you won’t feel any pain.
You can’t reinvent yourself for every movie.
The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented in symbols of speech, nor by speech itself. The resources of the graphic art are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail.
You cannot see the Grand Canyon in one view, as if it were a changeless spectacle from which a curtain might be lifted, but to see it you have to toil from month to month through its labyrinths.
We have an unknown distance yet to run, an unknown river to explore. What falls there are, we know not; what rocks beset the channel, we know not; what walls ride over the river, we know not. Ah, well! we may conjecture many things.
We have an unknown distance yet to run, an unknown river to explore.
The landscape everywhere, away from the river, is of rock – cliffs of rock; plateaus of rock; terraces of rock; crags of rock – ten thousand strangely carved forms.
The elements that unite to make the Grand Canyon the most sublime spectacle in nature are multifarious and exceedingly diverse.