“My father..." He paused painfully, his voice unsteady. "...thought he was drinking the nectar of the gods, but it turned out to be poison. He learned that men don't need gods after all; it's the gods who need men. That's what killed my father.”

“There are men with guns up there. When they see me, they will kill me, if they can," Itell my father quietly. I search his eyes. "Should I let them?"He stares at me for a few seconds."Go," he says, "and God help you.”

“Talking to men for God is a great thing, but talking to God for men is greater still. He will never talk well and with real success to men for God who has not learned well how to talk to God for men.”

“A child is not likely to find a father in God unless he finds something of God in his father.”

“It's too late. Seventeen-year-olds don't need fathers.Oh god. I'm thirty-four years old and I need a father. I can't even begin to think what my daughter needs.”

“Once, I remember, Father Abbot said that our purpose is justice, and with God lies the privilege of mercy. But even God, when he intends mercy, needs tools to his hand.”