“What a blessed habit I have found my prayer list, morning by morning, it takes me via the Throne of all Grace straight to the intimate personal heart of each one mentioned here, and I know that He Who is not prescribed by time and geography answers immediately.”

“One of these poems I wrote after having been here only a month. The other, I wrote this morning. In the space between the two poems, I have found acres of grace”

“Yet it seems to me finishing well in this life is not so much about who is the best or greatest at something, but rather who embraces lowliness of heart. Laying down one's rights- meekness- is a blessed virtue, one that must surely come straight from the Throne of Grace.”

“I know not by what method rareBut this I know, God answers prayer.I know that he has given his WordWhich tells me prayer is always heardAnd will be answered soon or lateAnd so I pray and calmly wait.I know not if the blessing sought Will come in just the way I thoughtBut leave my prayers with him aloneWhose will is wiser than my ownAssured that he will grant my questOr send some answer far more blessed.”

“Do you know what I would answer to someone who asked me for a description of myself, in a hurry? This:?? !!For indeed my life is a perpetual question mark--my thirst for books, my observations of people, all tend to satisfy a great, overwhelming desire to know, to understand, to find an answer to a million questions. And gradually the answers are revealed, many things are explained, and above all, many things are given names and described, and my restlessness is subdued. Then I become an exclamatory person, clapping my hands to the immense surprises the world holds for me, and falling from one ecstasy into another. I have the habit of peeping and prying and listening and seeking--passionate curiosity and expectation. But I have also the habit of being surprised, the habit of being filled with wonder and satisfaction each time I stumble on some wondrous thing. The first habit could make me a philosopher or a cynic or perhaps a humorist. But the other habit destroys all the delicate foundations, and I find each day that I am still...only a Woman!”

“What we have is divine. It's beautiful and good and right. I feel it..." He presses his his hand to his chest, over his heart. "I feel it all the time. You're in here, part of me. You're what I go to bed thinking about and what I wake up to in the morning.”