If your heart takes more pleasure in reading novels, or watching TV, or going to the movies, or talking to friends, rather than just sitting alone with God and embracing Him, sharing His cares and His burdens, weeping and rejoicing with Him, then how are you going to handle forever and ever in His presence...? You'd be bored to tears in heaven, if you're not ecstatic about God now!

"And so these refined parents rejected their five-year-old girl to all kinds of torture. They beat her, kicked her, flogged her, for no reason that they themselves knew of. The child's whole body was covered in bruises. Eventually they devised a new refinement. Under the pretext that the child dirtied her bed (as though a five-year-old deep in her angelic sleep could be punished for that), they forced her to eat excrement, smearing it all over her face. And it was the mother that did it! And that woman would lock her daughter up in the outhouse until morning and she did so even on the coldest nights, when it was freezing. Just imagine the woman being able to sleep with the child's cries coming from that outhouse! Imagine that little creature, unable to even understand what is happening to her, beating her sore little chest with her tiny fist, weeping hot, unresentful, meek tears, and begging 'gentle Jesus' to help her?

Unrequited love is so boring. Weeping under a blue-black sky is for suckers or maniacs.

God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.

In every way that counted, I was dead. Inside somewhere maybe I was screaming and weeping and howling like an animal, but that was another person deep inside, another person who had no access to the lips and face and mouth and head, so on the surface I just shrugged and smile and kept moving. If I could have physically passed away, just let it all go, like that, without doing anything, stepped out of life as easily as walking through a door I would have done. But I was going to sleep at night and waking in the morning, disappointed to be there and resigned to existence.

"Maybe happiness didn't have to be about the big, sweeping circumstances, about having everything in your life in place. Maybe it was about stringing together a bunch of small pleasures. Wearing slippers and watching the Miss Universe contest. Eating a brownie with vanilla ice cream. Getting to level seven in Dragon Master and knowing there were twenty more levels to go.

Weeping is not the same thing as crying. It takes your whole body to weep, and when it's over, you feel like you don't have any bones left to hold you up.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Oh I am very weary Though tears no longer flow My eyes are tired of weeping My heart is sick of woe.

When you are joyous look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

What do I geek out about? What am I? Hmmm. I love movies. I watch movies. I like big sweeping epics like Ed Zwick stuff: 'The Last Samurai ' 'Legends of the Fall ' 'Blood Diamond ' 'Glory.'

I am never at my best in the early morning especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells finding its way inside my clothing nipping at my nose and ears.

Now a cholera epidemic was sweeping through Southeast Asia and south Asia in the early 1970s so I started medical school and I joined a laboratory to work on this.

I'm a fan of horrors. I love the ones that make you jump. My girlfriend hates it. I've been dating her for one-and-a-half years and I'm crazy about her but she's terrified of horror films. Not the cute 'Will you hold me?' way but she's weeping. With 'House of Wax ' we'll be sleeping and I'll go to the bathroom and she's sitting up waiting for me.

Another night I dreamed I saw my father sweeping out the barn floor clean and would not suffer the wheat to be brought in the barn. He appeared to me to be in anger.