“His presence was somehow a balm on the open wound of my heart.”

“His presence is the medicine that soothes my wounds.”

“For the believer in divine creation, the open question of the Mystery of Being is like an open wound. It stings and gapes, and the believer cannot rest till it be healed up, closed up, smeared with the soothing balm of an answer, even if his doctrine be a sophisticated one like Aquinas's or that of the latest Liberal Protestant theologian.”

“when the thrill of his body fades or changes, and the difficulties of pledging yourself to only one person surface, kindness will be the balm that soothes the wounds of life.”

“My true-love hath my heart and I have his,By just exchange one for the other given:I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;There never was a bargain better driven.His heart in me keeps me and him in one;My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:He loves my heart, for once it was his own;I cherish his because in me it bides.His heart his wound received from my sight;My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;For as from me on him his hurt did light,So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart:Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,My true-love hath my heart and I have his.”

“I wish for my child to have a mind as stark and wild as the winter, a spirit as clear and fine as my window, and a heart as red and open as my wounded hand.”