There had been a frozen mist here, and the trees were spun into feathers. Their fragile brilliance made me wonder why, into the spotlessness of Creation, God had seen fit to introduce soiling, twisting, rampaging, Man. — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“Behold,' said the Voice, 'earthly beauty. It is nothing but seeming, for to the uninstructed eye the world appears fruitful and sweet, yet in… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“I mean that repeated offences, even when they secure forgiveness, drive out love. And from that I came to say that one may compel… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
There had been a frozen mist here, and the trees were spun into feathers. Their fragile brilliance made me wonder why, into the spotlessness… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“Violent love eats up what it does love, and it is mere appetite. I scribbled on the bottom of this before sending it back:… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“How did men make themselves loved, I wondered. I had passed all my life with men who were loved but I seemed never to… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“I pictured Becs and myself together, squabbling, but always over little things, while I rotted away at the core from love of Ferris. It… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
I followed him up the stairs. I was a fornicator, of unnatural appetite, in thrall to an Atheist. I repeated the words in my… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
I wondered at him, so wise and so foolish, to have lived with me all these months and not know that the worst storms… — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“I dig and plough at your command,' I replied, 'but you will not tell me how to shit.” — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
“God cuts out our path, makes a groove in the clay with His finger, and we poor blind ants slide down into it.” — Maria McCann Copy Share Image
