Grace (n.) is the power you need to imitate Jesus — and all we really know about it is that some get it and some don't.
Grace (n.) is not earned; it is common property like the sun, moon and stars, to be accepted with gratitude and never measured against merit.
Grace (n.) abused is like finding an antidote to a poison and going on drinking the poison.
Grace (n.) does not solve the problem of surrendering the self; it only swaps it for the identical problem of accepting or refusing grace.
Grace (n.) only postpones the problem: if loving God requires grace, I am commanded to get grace — and I need grace to open myself to grace.
Grace (n.) in art is te: what separates a master's spontaneous stroke from a haphazard drool of paint.
Grace (n.) does not obliterate nature but perfects it — though in practice perfecting nature has always meant its total submission to spirit.
Grace (n.) is the Christian name for te, the power that arises spontaneously from understanding, as distinct from will-power.