(Farewell, that is, to son Matthew at Holy Trinity Seminary at University of Dallas.)
Oremus pro invicem!
And who is praying? An inquiry revealed that hardly five percent would admit that they prayed; those who prayed did so from force of habit, and their prayers were mostly the prayers of children. For most of the men, prayer was a burden or merely a habit; in any case, it was an unpleasant thing, and for a man and a soldier it was considered an embarrassing occupation.
Our lives appear to us as a story: a story that we tell ourselves about our past, act out in the present and script for ourselves into the future. To share one’s life with someone, then, is to embark on a daring creative venture in shared storytelling. To marry is to say: Let us make of our two lives one story, a story that I will tell to you and you will tell to me. Telling and retelling that story — reminiscing about shared experiences, especially the happy or funny ones — is one of the secrets of happy couples ...
Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone! Therefore, you shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength. Take to heart these words which I enjoin on you today. Drill them into your children. Speak of them at home and abroad, whether you are busy or at rest. (Deuteronomy 6:4-7)


Sir Everard Digby(1578-1606) was an English Catholic convert who was hung, drawn and quartered for his part in a plot to blow up Parliament and overthrow King James I, who persecuted Catholics. When the executioner cut out his heart, and held it up saying, "Here is the heart of a traitor", Digby managed to summon up the strength to respond "Thou liest"
Although the difficulties, temptations, and different events that occur in the course of carrying out our plan may cause us some uncertainty as to whether we have chosen well, still we must remain firm and not consider all such things. ... furthermore we do not know if God wills us to be trained in consolation or in desolation .....
Then he sat staring rather foolishly at the rude lantern of lead and coloured glass that hangs over my door. It is old, but of no value; my grandmother gave it to me long ago: she was devout, and it happens that the glass is painted with a crude picture of Bethlehem and the Wise Men and the Star. He seemed so mesmerized with the transparent glow of Our Lady's blue gown and the big gold star behind, that he led me also to look at the thing, which I had not done for fourteen years. (emphasis added)
I don't know whether I came to the country to live the simple life; but I am now engaged in a life vastly more complex than anything the city has to offer. -E.B. White