“My Heart Is a Holy PlaceMy heart is a holy placeWiser and holier than I know it to beWiser than my lips can speakA spring of mystery and grace.You have created my heartAnd have filled it with things of wonder.You have sculpted it, shaped it with your handsTouched it with your breath.In its own season it reveals itself to me.It shows me rivers of goldFlowing in eleganceAnd hidden paths of infinite beauty.You touch me with your stillness as I await its time.You have made it a dwelling place of richness and intricaciesOf wisdom beyond my understandingOf grace and mysteries, from your hands.”

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

“What do you think love is- a thing to startle from the heart like a bird at every shout or blow? You can fly from me, high as you choose into your darkness, but you will see me always beneath you, no matter how far away, with my face turned to you. My heart is in your heart. I gave it to you with my name that night and you are its guardian, to treasure it, or let it whither and die. I do not understand you. I am angry with you. I am hurt and helpless, but nothing will fill the ache of the hollowness in me where your name would echo if I lost you.”

“His heart's occupied elsewhere," said Ben from behind me. "And even if it weren't he's not interested in your kind. But, I'm available and ready.""You don't have a heart," I told him. "Just a gaping hole where it should have been.""All the more reason for you to give me yours."I pounded my forehead against Warren 's back. "Tell me Ben's not flirting with me.""Hey," said Ben sounding hurt. "I was talking cannibalism, not romance.”

“It is my wish that you may have at better and freer life than I have had. Recommend virtue to your children; it alone, not money, can make them happy. I speak from experience; this was what upheld me in time of misery.”

“Why don't you try it? It might be easier to run in these than your boots.""This shoe clearly is not my size, and there is no time to have more made."I tried not to laugh. "They have some in the back room that are your size.”

“If I profane with my unworthiest handThis holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready standTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.Juliet:Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,Which mannerly devotion shows in this;For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.Romeo:Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?Juliet:Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.Romeo:O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.Juliet:Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.Romeo:Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.Juliet:Then have my lips the sin that they have took.Romeo:Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!Give me my sin again.Juliet:You kiss by the book.”