You can’t kill history. You can’t shoot it with a bullet and watch it recede into whatever lies outside of memory. History is tougher than that—if it’s going to die, it has to die on its own

Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth.

I prayed the Lord would sort (my prayers) out and answer as needed. Above all that he would hurry.

I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.

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

So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.

Hope is like yeast, you know, rising under warmth.