If god is truly god, he is perfect, lacking nothing.

The way of God is complex, he is hard for us to predict. He moves the pieces and they come somehow into a kind of order.

I have never wished there was a God to call on- I have often wished there was a God to thank.

Most of the time, God speaks in a whisper.

The skirts of the gods Drag in our mud. We feel the touch And take it to be a kiss.

God lies ahead. I convince myself and constantly repeat to myself that: He depends on us. It is through us that God is achieved.

I believe in the gods. Or rather I believe that I believe in the gods. But I don't believe that they are great brooding presences watching over us; I believe they are completely absent-minded.

The First Cause worked automatically like a somnambulist, and not reflectively like a sage.

If any man obeys the gods, they listen to him also.

To see so much misery everywhere, I suspect that God is not rich. He keeps up appearances, it is true, but I feel the pinch. He gives a revolution as a merchant, whose credit is low, gives a ball.