‘The idea that ordinariness should be so fraught with heaven, and that a thing like mere eating should open out onto vistas that we thought were the province of religious mystery — it is all too heady. Not that we are transported every time we sit down to our cornflakes, any more than we are struck by Cupid’s dart every time we come across our spouse. But the thing that forms from time to time and we are given to see when our vision is roused — that eating is a mysterious thing, or that our spouse is fairer than Aphrodite — it is there all along, cloaked in the demure mantle of ordinariness.’ 

Thomas Howard, Hallowed Be This House, Ignatius, 1979.