The soul is a verb." He impales a lit candle on a spike. "Not a noun.
She has to lose her pre-Copernican view of a universe revolving around herself.
Leaves turned to soil beneath my feet. Thus it is, trees eat themselves.
As long as our civilisation keeps trundling along generally forwards, then there is the possibility of a future where ethnicity is merely an interesting badge, not a uniform you can't take off.
Faith, the least exclusive club on Earth, has the craftiest doorman.
Secrets affect you more than you’d think. You lie to keep them hidden. You steer talk away from them. You worry someone’ll discover yours and tell the world. You think you are in charge of the secret, but isn’t it the secret who’s actually using you?