When one loves animals and children too much, one loves them against human beings.

I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life.

When I can't see myself in the mirror, I can't even feel myself, and I begin to wonder if I exist at all.

If I relegate impossible Salvation to the prop room, what remains? A whole man, composed of all men and as good as all of them and no better than any.

I tell you in truth: all men are Prophets or else God does not exist.

A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out.

Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of, and the of it is nothing other than the sense you choose.