The mind, in proportion as it is cut off from free communication with nature, with revelation, with God, with itself, loses its life, just as the body droops when debarred from the air and the cheering light from heaven.

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world, and droop. Sick of its business, of its pleasures tired, how gracious, how benign is solitude.

God, who needs nothing, loves into existence wholly superfluous creatures in order that He may love and perfect them. He creates the universe, already foreseeing - or should we say "seeing"? there are no tenses in God - the buzzing cloud of flies about the cross, the flayed back pressed against the uneven stake, the nails driven through the mesial nerves, the repeated incipient suffocation as the body droops, the repeated torture of back and arms as it is time after time, for breath's sake, hitched up. If I may dare the biological image, God is a "host" who deliberately creates His own parasites; causes us to be that we may exploit and "take advantage of" Him. Herein is love. This is the diagram of Love Himself, the inventor of all loves.

The words of kindness are more healing to a drooping heart than balm or honey.

The mind in proportion as it is cut off from free communication with nature with revelation with God with itself loses its life just as the body droops when debarred from the air and the cheering light from heaven.

When from our better selves we have too long been parted by the hurrying world and droop. Sick of its business of its pleasures tired how gracious how benign is solitude.

I'm flatchested I'm short I'm brunette I have droopy eyes and so people have a hard time casting me as a 'beauty.'