In the end, everyone loses everyone. There was no invention to get around that.

I was of the opinion that the past is past, and like all that is not now it should remain buried along the side of our memories.

For how long could we fail until we surrendered?

We need a better way to talk about eating animals. We need a way that brings meat to the center of public discussion in the same way it is often at the center of our plates. This doesn't require that we pretend we are going to have a collective agreement. However strong our intuitions are about what's right for us personally and even about what's right for others, we all know in advance that our positions will clash with those of our neighbors. What do we do with that most inevitable reality? Drop the conversation, or find a way to reframe it?

Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean].

I'm interested in the kind of religion that makes life harder. I'm not so interested in the comforting kind of religion.

Suddenly Yankel was overcome with a fear of dying, stronger than he felt when his parents passed of natural causes, stronger than when his only brother was killed in the flour mill or when his children died, stronger even than when he was a child and it first occurred to him that he must try to understand what it could mean not to be alive -- to be not in darkness, not in unfeeling -- to be not being, not to be.