I often see it in people who have attained what the monastic tradition terms "detachment," an ability to live at peace with the reality of whatever happens. Such people do not have a closed-off air, nor a boastful demeanor. In them, it is clear, their wounds have opened the way to compassion for others. And compassion is the strength and soul of a religion.

Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say My tooth is aching" than to say My heart is broken.

No one ever told me grief felt so much like fear.

Depression is like a woman in black. If she turns up, don't shoo her away. Invite her in, offer her a seat, treat her like a guest and listen to what she wants to say.

Maxims are texts to which we turn in danger or sorrow, and we often find what seems to have been expressly written for our use.

My Nini wanted to get another dog, as much like Daisy as possible, but my Popo said that it was not a question of replacing her, but of trying to live without her. "I can't, Popo. I loved her so much!" I sobbed inconsolably. "That affection is inside you, Maya, not in Daisy. You can give it to other animals, and what's left over you can give to me

God does not want to make us comfortable as much as He wants to make us comfort-able - to take the comfort that we receive and share it with others.

Women have always been the primary victims of war. Women lose their husbands, their fathers, their sons in combat.

But suffering can either destroy you or it can save you. Because without suffering, we don't need more; we have enough. But when we suffer, we can't help but reach out. It forces us into God's arms, and that's where we find not only what we need, but more than we can imagine. We find Him.

You might have healed from the event, but you continue to bleed from the impact.

The death of my own son has made me more sensitive. It's made me more compassionate.

But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space.