When I was little, I went to a Catholic school and was required to go to church every morning and with my parents on Sundays, so I spent a lot of time sitting on a wooden pew. Angels are sort of a relief. If you're looking around, the other imagery is so dark and heavy. Looking at the beautifully rendered pictures of angels was more uplifting.

I'm sure that growing up in the Midwest played a role in my chronic escapism. In fact, before I lived in France, I lived in Japan, England, and Bulgaria. I was determined to experience other places and cultures, particularly because I had the perception that I'd been cut off from these experiences as a child.

Even the good angels, I think, would inspire in humans some sort of fear.

Stories of a mythical angel paradise called an Angelopolis are like Peter Pan's Never Never Land.

These moments were wondrous and divine, instances when the gossamer curtain between heaven and earth ripped and all of humanity witnessed the marvel of the ethereal beings.

Since the Middle Ages, people have been writing about angels. Angelology was actually at one point a scholastic discipline.

Maybe that is what marriage is: Two people creating a cult together.