literature will lose, sunlight will win, don't worry.
Its hard for me to grasp that I might somehow be my fathers equal in any way.
I basked in you; I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love. And death doesn't prevent me from loving you. Besides, in my opinion you aren't dead. (I know dead people, and you are not dead.)
We are created by being destroyed.
I believe one day the distance between myself and God will / disappear.
This is no occupation for an adult who can look other adults in the eye, carry his own weight, and count himself one of them.