Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war.
Words today are like the shells and rope of seaweed which a child brings home glistening from the beach and which in an hour have lost their luster.
The priesthood is a marriage. People often start by falling in love and they go on for years without realizing that love must change into some other love which is so unlike it that it can hardly be recognized as love at all.