Where there is great love, there are always miracles. The miracles of the church seem to me to rest not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from afar off, but upon our perceptions being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there. That is happiness: to be dissolved into something complete and great. Only solitary men know the full joys of friendship. Others have their family; but to a solitary and an exile his friends are everything. Men travel faster now, but I do not know if they go to better things. I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do. |