“Please God, please God, can you please tell me why? I ask this of you, yet in my heart, I know.”

“Attention, God the Judge, God the Father, who Art in Heaven, give me one miracle, please. If You exist as I know You do, even if no one else in the world believes in You, please give me a brain tumor. Please tear my limbs from their sockets and let the backseat and my older sister be totally covered with blood. Please make me dumb and blind and deaf, please make me a martyr, please, dear heavenly Father. Tear my heart right from my chest. Drive spikes into my eyes and let hot lava shoot out of my mouth. Make me silent and thoroughly dead, but please hurry. Before we get home, before we reach the next stoplight, let the only sound be no sound, the silence of my death burning in the empty sky. If You are a mighty and true God, if You are not just a dream I have made up, please, before another hour, another minute passes, let the wire in my bra poke through my heart. Dear Lord, please, please, give me this one miracle. I have begged You every day, every evening, so please, let Your will be done, let Your will be done. Give me a gruesome death as fast as You possibly can. Thank you, God. Amen.”

“See this ring? I'll ask her to be mine forever after the surgery, though I'm 99% sure she'll say yes, will you please make it 100%. God, I know it's too much to ask, but please don't take Ann yet, I need her. I need her so bad. And I feel that my heart will just burst into pieces when she's gone. It's not entirely her that I'll miss but every waking moment spent with her, that it feels like I miss her even if she's with me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life without her; she's the only reason why I'm here. So please, it's the only thing that I'll ask. Please don't take her yet.”

“Give me another chance," I ask urgently. "I will do anything that you want me to do if you just tell me that we can start again. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking anyway. I honestly don't know if I can breathe without you. Please. I love you, Mila. Please tell me we can work it out.”

“When [the saints] perform actions to God, then the soul says: 'Oh! that I could do what pleases God!' When they come to suffer any cross: 'Oh, that what God does might please me!' I labour to do what pleases God, and I labour that what God does shall please me: here is a Christian indeed, who shall endeavour both these. It is but one side of a Christian to endeavour to do what pleases God; you must as well endeavour to be pleased with what God does, and so you will come to be a complete Christian when you can do both, and that is the first thing in the excellence of this grace of contentment.”

“Are you there God? It’s me, Margaret. I just told my mother I want a bra. Please help me grow God. You know where.”