You Are What You Love.

The Peace Of The Celestial City Is The Perfectly Ordered And Harmonious Enjoyment Of God, And Of One Another In God. (city Of God, Book 19)

I Fell Away From You, My God, And I Went Astray, Too Far Astray From You, The Support Of My Youth, And I Became To Myself A Land Of Want.

In Our Own Times, You See, An Emperor Came To The City Of Rome, Where There's The Temple Of An Emperor, Where There's A Fisherman's Tomb. And So That Pious And Christian Emperor, Wishing To Beg For Health, For Salvation From The Lord, Did Not Proceed To The Temple Of A Proud Emperor, But To The Tomb Of A Fisherman, Where He Could Imitate That Fisherman In Humility, So That He, Being Thus Approached, Might Then Obtain Something From The Lord, Which A Haughty Emperor Would Be Quite Unable To Earn.

We Make Ourselves A Ladder Out Of Our Vices If We Trample The Vices Themselves Underfoot.

Love Is A Temporary Madness. It Erupts Like An Earthquake And Then Subsides. And When It Subsides You Have To Make A Decision. You Have To Work Out Whether Your Roots Have Become So Entwined Together That It Is Inconceivable That You Should Ever Part. Because This Is What Love Is. Love Is Not Breathlessness, It Is Not Excitement, It Is Not The Promulgation Of Promises Of Eternal Passion. That Is Just Being In Love Which Any Of Us Can Convince Ourselves We Are. Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being In Love Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.