Once traveling, it's remarkable how quickly faith erodes. It starts to look like something else--ignorance, for example. Same thing happened to the Israelites. Sure it's weak, but sometimes you'd rather just have a map.

Is there a single person on whom I can press belief? No sir. All I can do is say, Here's how it went. Here's what I saw. I've been there and am going back. Make of it what you will.

Once torched by truth...a little thing like faith is easy.

Many a night I woke to the murmer of paper and knew (Dad) was up, sitting in the kitchen with frayed King James - oh, but he worked that book; he held to it like a rope ladder.

You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine as any.

Why is it our failures only show us more clearly the people we are failing?

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature.