These atheist cultures were certainly diligent in preserving the relics of their saints.

It was not the brutality of what occurred next that changed my mind and brought home to me the full meaning of fear. It was the brilliance of it.

It's a shame for women's history to be all about men--first boys, then other boys, then men men men. It reminds me of the way our school history textbooks were all about wars and elections, one war after another, with the dull periods of peace skimmed over whenever they occurred. (Our teachers deplored this and added extra units about social history and protest movements, but that was still the message of the books.)

It touched me to be trusted with something terrible.

I was filled with angst in college, that I struggled with the question of my future, the meaning of my life - spoiled sheltered rich girl collides with great books and is devastated by her own banality.

These atheist cultures were certainly diligent in preserving the relics of their saints.

In the end, I always act from the heart, even if I also value reason and tradition. I wish I could explain why, but I don't know.