In a spy novel I had just read, the hero hid
a letter in a particular statue in Washington, D.C. Since I was in that city at
the time, on a whim I decided to see if the statue really contained the small
niche the author had described. To my great surprise, it did – and a
cellophane – wrapped letter was inside. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled out
the letter, opened it, and burst into laughter.

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Would you know who is the greatest saint in the world: It is not he who prays most or fasts most, it is not he who gives most alms or is most eminent for temperance, chastity or justice; but it is he who is always thankful to God, who wills everything that God wills, who receives everything as an instance of God’s goodness and has a heart always ready to praise God for it.  

–William Law

There’s one word that describes the night Jesus came—ordinary. A beautiful night but nothing to keep a person awake. The sheep were ordinary. No fleece made of gold. No history makers. And the shepherds…peasants they were, probably wearing all the clothes they owned. You won’t find their staffs in a museum or their writings in a library. They were nameless and simple. And were it not for a God who loves to hook an “extra” on the front of ordinary, the night might have gone unnoticed.

But God dances amidst the common. And that night He did a waltz. The black sky exploded with brightness The night was ordinary no more. The angel came in the night because that’s when lights are best seen and most needed. God comes into the common for the same reason. His most powerful tools are the simplest.

From The Applause of Heaven

“The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense.” (Tom Clancy)

“I never know what I think about something until I read what I’ve written on it.” (William Faulkner)

“I handed in a script last year and the studio didn’t change one word. The word they didn’t change was on page 87.” (Steve Martin)

“I have always been a huge admirer of my own work. I’m one of the funniest and most entertaining writers I know.” (Mel Brooks)

“It took me fifteen years to discover that I had no talent for writing, but I couldn’t give it up because by that time I was too famous.” (Robert Benchley)

“A writer is congenitally unable to tell the truth and that is why we call what he writes fiction.” (William Faulkner)

“The free-lance writer is the person who is paid per piece or per word or perhaps.” (Robert Benchley)

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