And I can't say it now. I can't say what I want to say. I hold you-- I-- I clutch you, because I love you so desperately, and time is so short, we have such a little time in which to live and be young, even at best, and I put my arms around you and hold you because I want to love you while I can and I want to know I'm loving you, only it doesn't mean anything because you aren't afraid. You aren't frightened so that you want to clutch it all while you can.

For that moment, at least, all our doors and windows were wide open; we were not carefully shutting out God's purifying light, in order to feel safe and secure; we were bathed in the same light that burned and yet did not consume the bush. We walked barefoot on holy ground.

A good laugh heals a lot of hurts.

My lovely shining fragile broken house is filled with flowers and founded on a rock.

People are more than just the way they look.

An artist is someone who cannot rest, who can never rest as long as there is one suffering creature in the world.

Like and equal are not the same thing at all. -- Meg Murray