David Gray Linked to Swansea City Job Amid Hibernian Success: Scottish Football Latest

There are times when solitude is better than society, and silence is wiser than speech. We should be better Christians if we were more alone, waiting upon God, and gathering through meditation on His Word spiritual strength for labour in his service. We ought to muse upon the things of God, because we thus get the real nutriment out of them. . . . Why is it that some Christians, although they hear many sermons, make but slow advances in the divine life? Because they neglect their closets, and do not thoughtfully meditate on God's Word. They love the wheat, but they do not grind it; they would have the corn, but they will not go forth into the fields to gather it; the fruit hangs upon the tree, but they will not pluck it; the water flows at their feet, but they will not stoop to drink it. From such folly deliver us, O Lord. . . . - By Charles Haddon Spurgeon

It's not always easy being her daughter.' I think,' she said, 'sometimes it's hard no matter whose daughter you are. - By Sarah Dessen, Along for the Ride

If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than because he was he, and I was I. - By Michel de Montaigne, The Complete Essays

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. - By Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

Find ecstasy in life - By the mere sense of living is joy enough.

I had never thought I could love another person this much. I also never thought I’d live in such fear of losing another person. Was this how everyone in love felt? Did they all cling tightly to their beloved and wake up terrified in the middle of the night, afraid of being alone? Was that an inevitable way of life when you loved so deeply? Or was it just those of us who walked on a precipice who lived in such panic? - By Richelle Mead, The Fiery Heart