Naomi

“Sophie had been chiefly concerned in those days whether her mother would be able to bear the ordeal of losing two children at the same moment. But now, as Mother stood there, so brave and good, Sophie had a feeling of sudden release from anxiety. Again her mother spoke; she wanted to give her daughter something she might hold fast to: "You know, Sophie - Jesus." Earnestly, firmly, almost imperiously, Sophie replied, "Yes, but you too." Then she left - free, fearless, and calm.”
― Inge Scholl, The White Rose: Munich, 1942-1943

“The highest achievement of the human being as a thinking being is to have probed what is knowable and quietly to revere what is unknowable.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“And don't you know - listen to me, now - don't you know who that Fat Lady really is?... Ah, buddy. Ah, buddy. It's Christ Himself. Christ himself, buddy." For joy, apparently, it was all Franny could do to hold the phone, even with both hands.”
― J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

“She raised her hands from the side of the pen in a gesture hieratic and profound. A visionary light settled in her eyes. She saw the streak as a vast swinging bridge extending upward from the earth through a field of living fire. Upon it a vast horde of souls were rumbling toward heaven. There were whole companies of white-trash, clean for the first time in their lives, and bands of black niggers in white robes, and battalions of freaks and lunatics shouting and clapping and leaping like frogs. And bringing up the end of the procession was a tribe of people whom she recognized at once as those who, like herself and Claud, had always had a little of everything and the God-given wit to use it right. She leaned forward to observe them closer. They were marching behind the others with great dignity, accountable as they had always been for good order and common sense and respectable behavior. They alone were on key. Yet she could see by their shocked and altered faces that even their virtues were being burned away. She lowered her hands and gripped the rail of the hog pen, her eyes small but fixed unblinkingly on what lay ahead. In a moment the vision faded but she remained where she was, immobile.”
― Flannery O'Connor, The Complete Stories