Maybe miracles are given not to prove anything, but simply to remind us that the physical world is not so solid and real and dependable as we think.

Like Achilles, the hero who forgot his heel, or like Icarus who, flying close to the sun, forgot that his wings were made of wax, we should be wary when triumphant ideas seem unassailable, for then there is all the more reason to predict their downfall.

We need to discover once again that we have something to die for, for it is only when we have something to die for that we have something to live for.

Protestants do not very often disagree with what Catholics believe, but they do very often disagree with what they think Catholics believe.

Like the dog who barks at the train, I bark not because I expect the train to stop, but because I am a dog.

Because we are limited in our knowledge, even the sanest of us are slightly insane. Our limitations are a kind of madness, and we can only choose to deny we are mad, and so descend into a dark spiral of total insanity, or accept we are mad and embark on a quest to regain our true and wholesome sanity