Forgiveness Is The Remission Of Sins. For

Love Is A Temporary Madness. It Erupts Like An Earthquake And Then Subsides. And When It Subsides You Have To Make A Decision. You Have To Work Out Whether Your Roots Have Become So Entwined Together That It Is Inconceivable That You Should Ever Part. Because This Is What Love Is. Love Is Not Breathlessness, It Is Not Excitement, It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being In Love Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.

Then Assuredly The World Was Made, Not In Time, But Simultaneously With Time.

Such Is The Strength Of The Burden Of Habit. Here I Have The Power To Be But Do Not Wish It. There I Wish To Be But Lacks The Power. On Both Grounds, I'm In Misery.

Humility Is The Foundation Of All The Other Virtues Hence, In The Soul In Which This Virtue Does Not Exist There Cannot Be Any Other Virtue Except In Mere Appearance.

Not All, Nor Even A Majority, Are Saved. . . They Are Indeed Many, If Regarded By Themselves, But They Are Few In Comparison With The Far Larger Number Of Those Who Shall Be Punished With The Devil.