“THE HOST is riding from Knocknarea And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare; Caolte tossing his burning hair And Niamh calling Away, come away: Empty your heart of its mortal dream. The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round, Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound, Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam, Our arms are waving, our lips are apart; And if any gaze on our rushing band, We come between him and the deed of his hand, We come between him and the hope of his heart. The host is rushing ’twixt night and day, And where is there hope or deed as fair? Caolte tossing his burning hair, And Niamh calling Away, come away”

“The host is rushing 'twixt day and night,And where is there hope or deed as fair?Caoilte tossing his burning hair,And Niamh calling Away, come away.”

“The more we become sensitive to our own journey the more we realize that we are leaving and coming back every day, every hour. Our minds wander away but eventually return; our hearts leave in search of affection and return sometimes broken; our bodies get carried away in their desires then sooner or later return. It's never one dramatic life moment but a constant series of departures and returns.”

“Watch over our child. Guide him safely from the ways of harm.Keep happy his heart, brave his soul, and rosy his cheeks.Guard with your life his hopes and dreams,for he is all that we have, all that we are,and all that we will ever be.”

“Christ cannot live his life today in this world without our mouth, without our eyes, without our going and coming, without our heart. When we love, it is Christ loving through us. This is Christianity”

“Just as certain seeds require a forest fire to crack open their shells, crisis burns away our limited self-concepts, allowing our deeper nature to come forth. We must remember that our suffering carries the seed of our salvation; our problems are actually our answered prayers, and our darkness really is the light in potential.”