“You know what I wish? I wish I could put time in a bottle and throw it into the ocean. Then I would have forever to spend with you. I wouldn’t need air to breathe or food to eat. Holding you in my arms would be all the food I would need. Having your love would be the only air I would need to breathe.”

“I have met people who truly do not believe in God, and they feel no anger when they see suffering. They are indifferent to it. But you and I are angry. Anger is not indifference. I blamed God because He took my family. But I couldn’t get revenge from God, so I turned my rage against other people. I wanted revenge. Someone must pay.”“You’re wrong.” Helen said, wanting desperately to believe that he was. “I told you, I no longer believe in God.”“Then why are you so angry with Him?” His eyes were so sorrowful that Helen had to look away. She was unable to reply. “You blame me and my country for your losses Miss Kimball. And I blame you and your country. But you and I are people, not countries. Did you kill my wife? My child? Would you put a gun to their heads and shoot them, or take away all of their food and watch them die? No, of course not. Neither would I kill someone you loved if I met him face to face. Wars come from bitterness and hatred. They are started by nations without face. But wars end when the hatred ends in the hearts of people like you and me. That is why I ask you to please forgive me.”

“In the past I had often tried to escape the grown-up world of sorrow through my imagination- dreaming that a handsome young lieutenant would ride to my rescue or that a great empresario would discover my musical talents and whisk me away. I had envisioned knights in shining armor and happily ever after scenes to escape from rules or boredom or pain; including a vision of my mother walking through our front door whole and well again. Now I knew that a lifetime of escape led to a life like Aunt Bertie's. My imagination was a gift, but I had to live in the real world. My eyes had been opened this summer to poverty and crime and abuse and I needed to use my imagination not to escape, but to help people like Irina and Katya, to make my own contribution as the women in the women's pavilion had done. I couldn't do it in the same way Jane Adams and my grandmother and Aunt Mat were, but I would find my own way and my own time.”

“Shebna scraped the tablet clean and began drawing circles in the soft clay. "Suppose you had six figs and you ate two. How many would--""Four." Hezekiah answered before Shebna finished, and the tutor's thick black eyebrows rose in surprise."And suppose I had five figs. How many would we--""Nine.""Have you done this before?"Hezekiah thought the question was ridiculous. "I've eaten figs lots of times.”

“No, Hezekiah...no.. I don't deserve forgiveness. He lifted his head to look at her. None of us do. But God doesn't treat us as our sins deserve. He took her hands in his. I should have shown you that. I should have shown you my God instead of making you serve a God you didn't know. I only showed you his rules and laws. But God doesn't want us to worship Him out of fear. He is our Father, and He wants us to learn to love Him with all our heart and all our soul and all our strength. I should have helped you know Him.”

“Our trials are supposed to turn us toward God, but we whine and complain and wish someone would turn down the fire so we could have our old life back the way it was.”

“If you truly understood the holiness of God, you would have a proper attitude about yourself.”