The Final Word Is Love.

Communities Are Made Up Of The Unlovable As Well As The Lovable.

I Cannot Worry Much About Your Sins And Miseries When I Have So Many Of My Own. I Can Only Love You All, Poor Fellow Travellers, Fellow Sufferers. I Do Not Want To Add One Least Straw To The Burden You Already Carry.

We Cannot Love God Unless We Love Each Other, And To Love We Must Know Each Other. We Know Him In The Breaking Of Bread, And We Know Each Other In The Breaking Of Bread, And We Are Not Alone Anymore. Heaven Is A Banquet And Life Is A Banquet, Too, Even With A Crust, Where There Is Companionship.

I Can Write No Other Than This: Unless We Use The Weapons Of The Spirit, Denying Ourselves And Taking Up Our Cross And Following Jesus, Dying With Him And Rising With Him, Men Will Go On Fighting, And Often From The Highest Motives, Believing That They Are Fighting Defensive Wars For Justice And In Self-defense Against Present Or Future Aggression.

Recording Happiness Made It Last Longer, We Felt, And Recording Sorrow Dramatized It And Took Away Its Bitterness; And Often We Settled Some Problem Which Beset Us Even While We Wrote About It.