On the whole I feel that life has treated me rather well, but I sometimes wonder how well have I treated life.

I think that an act of love is immortal; once tendered, it can never really be taken back.

Years ago I heard the Indian Jesuit Raimundo Panikkar say: Expect Nothing.

If there were no nobodies, The somebodies would not have anybody, To convince that they were somebody, Except some other somebody, Who would not be convinced anyway.

How often have I tried just hard enough so that I can then say to myself that I tried with the real purpose of assuaging my guilt about something I did not wish to succeed in the first place?

It is said that in life we must play with the cards we are dealt, but too often I have kept those cards too close to my chest.

How frustrating it is to be out-argued by someone you know is dead wrong but is more eloquent.