I know only enough of God to want to worship him, by any means ready to hand.

The irrational haunts the metaphysical.

By dipping us children in the Bible so often, they hoped, I think, to give our lives a serious tint, and to provide us with quaintly magnificent snatches of prayer to produce as charms while, say, being mugged for our cash or jewels.

We are here to bring to consciousness the beauty and power that are around us and to praise the people who are here with us.

It should surprise no one that the life of the writer - such as it is - is colorless to the point of sensory deprivation. Many writers do little else but sit in small rooms recalling the real world.

We are here on the planet only once, and might as well get a feel for the place.

We wake, if we ever wake at all, to mystery, rumors of death, beauty, violence.