Piety (n.) is born in compassion and killed by public display.
Piety (n.) means coming close to God rather than expressing oneself, empathy rather than self-display.
Piety (n.) works like art: it serves purposes, but its essence lies in itself.
Piety (n.) is not a function of the mind but an ideal of the soul, like wisdom or truthfulness.
Piety (n.) was once as ordinary as arithmetic.
Piety (n.) resists being classed as a virtue; pinning it down is like nailing the shadow of a bolting horse.
Piety (n.) is no mood; calling it one is like calling moonlight melancholy.
Piety (n.) is a standing attitude of the whole person, a breeze moving through every deed, word and thought.
Piety (n.) is an eye for the great inside the small and for eternal stillness inside passing haste.
Piety (n.) is faith turned into a way of life, spirit wearing a personality.
Piety (n.) is selfishness reversed, aiming at self-forgetting and so shy it hides its merits even from itself.
Piety (n.) is not a groove but a stirring, and whoever has felt it never quite shakes it off.
Piety (n.) comes from a pure heart, not a sharp mind, so the pious are not always wise.
Piety (n.) lies not in performing rites but in the care and affection put into them.
Piety (n.) is not faith: faith sees and believes, piety answers a call and lives it, and either can exist without the other.
Piety (n.) is the proof, in a lived life, that the transcendent is real.
Piety (n.) wants more than an encounter with God; it wants to live with Him, repeating His words and answering when He calls.
Piety (n.) is simply a life fit for God's presence.
Piety (n.) frees us from the absurdity of the particular by finding the universal inside each part.
Piety (n.) angered God as much as wickedness did when it served as wickedness's alibi.