What is life? The joy of the blessed, the sorrow of the sad, and a search for death. And what is death? An inevitable happening, an uncertain pilgrimage, the tears of the living, the thief of man.
("Pope Joan")
More Quotes from Donna Woolfolk Cross:
Heed my words, daughter, if you ever mean to be happy: Never give yourself to a man.Donna Woolfolk Cross
Thunder sounded, very near, and the child woke.
Donna Woolfolk Cross
Strange the workings of the heart. One could go on for years, habituated to loss, reconciled to it, and then, in a moments unwary thought, the pain resurfaced, sharp and raw as a fresh wound.
Donna Woolfolk Cross
Shattered by the cumulative effect of so much horror and death, Joan was again afflicted by a crisis of faith. How could a good and benevolent God let such a thing happen? How could He so terribly afflict even children and babies, who were not guilty of any sin?
Donna Woolfolk Cross
Who was to know what went on in a person's heart? A wise woman kept her own counsel.
Donna Woolfolk Cross
There was always a way, when one knew what one wanted.
Donna Woolfolk Cross
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