A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall.

Delay. Procrastinate. Postpone. This is our evangelism strategy.

No amount of regret changes the past. No amount of anxiety changes the future. Any amount of grateful joy changes the present.

Never let your prey consider he neither created "his" time nor earned it. He cannot keep it, store it up, or take it with him when he exits earth. So why does he consider it "his" time? Because he's a fool.

In his play "Long Day's Journey into Night, " Eugene O'Neill has one of his characters utter a powerful statement toward the end of her life: "None of us can help the things life has done to us. They are done before you realize it and once they are done, they make you do other things, until at

God has an appointment with each of us, and it is critical that every man and woman know this. He will stop our steps when it is not our time, and He will lead us when it is. This is a reassuring truth to know for every believer, and a necessary trust for anyone who ministers in areas of great risk.

When God decides who should live or die, he is immoral. When you decide who should live or die, it's your moral right." There was a pin-drop silence.

monotony finds no relief in adding variety or changing our attitude about it. Activity does not create meaning; it is the other way around.

After the Vietnam War, a lot of us [antiwar graduate students] didn't just crawl back into our library cubicles; we stepped into academic positions. With the war over, our visibility was lost, and it seemed for awhile—to the unobservant—that we had disappeared. Now we have tenure, and the work of reshaping the universities has begun in earnest.2

Activity does not create meaning; it is the other way around.

there has been evident in our progressive world an increasing disregard and even disdain for those ritual forms that once brought forth, and up to now have sustained, this infinitely rich and fruitfully developing civilization. There is a ridiculous nature-boy sentimentalism that with increasing force is taking over. Its beginnings date back to the eighteenth century of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, with its artificial back-to-nature movements and conceptions of the Noble Savage.

He was working hard at increasing his life span. He did it by cultivating boredom.