Taking a thing apart is always faster than putting something together. This is true of everything except marriage.

Work and pray, live on hay, youll get pie in the sky when you die.

You think you know someone. But mostly you just know what you want to know.

I'll take the shooting. I'm used to that. I've been shot a few times in the past, and I guess I can stand it, again.

It was like wondering how evil had come into the world or what happens to a person after he dies: an interesting philosophical exercise, but also curiously pointless, since evil and death happened, regardless of the why and the how and what-it-meant.

I see God now as an unimaginative writer of popular fictions, someone who builds stories around sadistic and graceless plots, narratives that exist only to express His terror of a woman's power to choose who and how to love, to redefine love as she sees fit, not as God thinks it ought to be. The author is unworthy of His own characters.

Gold don't come off. What's good stays good no matter how much of a beating it takes.