Need (n.) can drive a marriage to seek God the way the poor apply to the state loan-office, and no one has a pleasant feeling about the loan-office.
Need (n.) is the poet's highest praise — 'he needs to write' — and the only truly poor man is the one who lived his life without ever needing anything.
Need (n.) that grows slowly gives life its highest significance — and the worst thing religion can do is satisfy a craving before it has appeared.
Need (n.) runs backwards before God: in the body, the less one needs the more perfect one is, but the more one needs God, the more perfect one becomes.
Need (n.) for earthly goods diminishes as man perfects himself; with God the principle reverses: the more man needs God, the more perfect he is.
Need (n.) is wealth when love's need is so great it could almost produce its own object — like a man so needing to talk that, on a desert isle, any man would do.
Need (n.) and nourishment are close kin: the greater the need, the nearer the nourishment — as Danish ties 'nourishment' to 'near.'
Need (n.) before God reverses the rule of earthly goods: there, the less one needs the more perfect; before God, the more a man needs him, the more perfect he is.
Need (n.) names both the greatest wretchedness and the greatest wealth: the highest praise of a poet is that he needs to write, of a girl that she needs to love.
Need (n.) carries its own nourishment, as God puts no fish in a sea that lacks its food plant: faith is found in worrying that one lacks faith, love in worrying that one does not love.