One Corpse Too Many

All the things of the wild have their proper uses. Only misuse makes them evil.

The trouble with me, he thought unhappily, is that I have been about the world long enough to know that God's plans for us, however infallibly good, may not take the form we expect and demand.

I value devotion and fidelity, and doubt if it matters whether the object falls short. What you do and what you are is what matters. Your loyalty is as sacred as mine.

So, wonder! I also wonder about you," said Cadfael mildly. "Do you know any human creatures who are not strangers, one to another?

In such dreadful times as these no one can do more than choose his own road according to his conscience, and bear the consequences of his choice, whatever they may be.

The ugliness that man can do to man might cast a shadow between you and the certainty of the justice and mercy God can do to him hereafter. It takes half a lifetime to reach the spot where eternity is always visible, and the crude injustice of the hour shrivels out of sight.

What you do and what you are is what matters.

I have been about the world long enough to know that God’s plans for us, however infallibly good, may not take the form that we expect and demand.

Trash?" echoed Cadfael, mildly and thoughtfully. "Oh, pleasant to have, and useful, I know. But once you have enough of it for your needs, the rest of it is trash. Can you eat it, wear it, ride it, keep off the rain and the cold with it, read it, play music on it, make love to it?

for every untimely death, every man cut down in his vigour and strength without time for repentance and reparation, is one corpse too many.

God disposes all. From the highest to the lowest extreme of a man’s scope, wherever justice and retribution can reach him, so can grace.

So it always is, he thought, to relieve another you must burden yourself.

There was so much to grieve over, and so much to celebrate, she did not know which to do first, and essayed both together, like April. But her age was April, and the hopeful sunshine won.

Beringar: But do I seem to you a man who would kill, and in so foul a fashion just to secure the trash those children are carrying away with them into Wales? "Trash?" echoed Cadfael, mildly and thoughtfully... Beringer: Oh, pleasant to have and useful, I know. But once you have enough of it for your needs, the rest is trash. Can you eat it? Wear It? Ride it? Keep off the rain and the cold with it? Read it? Play music on it? Make Love to it? Cadfael: You can buy the favor of kings with it.

The brothers doggedly pursued their chosen régime, service after service, chapter and Mass and the hours of work, because life could only be sustained by refusing to let it be disrupted, by war, catastrophe or death.

In my measure there’s little to choose between two such monarchs, but much to be said for keeping a man’s fealty and word.

the good sense to fortify himself with the things of the flesh for the struggles of the spirit.

... you may whisper a word or two to God on my behalf at Matins and Lauds, if you’ll be so kind. If he turns a deaf ear to you, small use the rest of us wearing out our knee-bones.