“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.”

“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.”

“The only thing I have of value is my heart. It's yours.”

“Theodore, I don’t think I have to tell you but …”“I won’t mention the little incident, your grace. Not even on my deathbed.”“Thank you, but to be safe you should give me your solemn oath.”Theodore repeated his promise with his hand on his heart.“Ah, we have to do his sort of thing correctly. Fetch me a holy book.”

“Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love?”