To see God everywhere is to see Him nowhere.

Things separate from their stories have no meaning. They are only shapes. Of a certain size and color. A certain weight. When their meaning has become lost to us they no longer have even a name. The story on the other hand can never be lost from its place in the world for it is that place.

In the nights sometimes now he'd wake in the back and freezing waste out of softly colored worlds of human love, the songs of birds, the sun.

I ain't got an original thought in my head. If it ain't got the scent of divinity to it, I ain't interested in it

War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner.

The small wad of burning paper drew down to a wisp of flame and then died out leaving a faint pattern for just a moment in the incandescence like the shape of a flower, a molten rose. Then all was dark again.

Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave.