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I realized - and I am probably the last person in the world to realize this - that we live our lives with no editing.
Our ideas are for the most part like bad sixpences, and we spend our lives trying to pass them on one another.
Once we are destined to live out our lives in the prison of our mind, our duty is to furnish it well.
There's no commodity we can take with us. There is only our lives, whether we live them wisely or whether we live them in ignorance. And this is everything.
Most of us don't live lives that lend themselves to novelistic expression, because our lives are so fragmented.
All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with a white carpet is one of them.
Our lives are the only meaningful expression of what we believe and in Whom we believe. And the only real wealth, for any of us, lies in our faith.
We as people often subscribe to hope to feel better about our lives, to escape the harsh and sometimes cruel injustices of the world.
Death is present every day in our lives. It's not that I take pleasure in the morbid fascination of it, but it is a fact of life.
