Gardening is not a rational act. What matters is the immersion of the hands in the earth, that ancient ceremony of which the Pope kissingthe tarmac is merely a pallid vestigial remnant.

All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye.

Which of us can resist the temptation of being thought indispensable?

I was kidnapped by literature at a young age and never wanted to be ransomed.

But my dreaming self refuses to be consoled. It continues to wander, aimless, homeless, alone. It cannot be convinced of its safety by any evidence drawn from my waking life.

I doubt that Canada will be seen forever on the international stage as Mr/s Boring Niceperson, as has been the habit.

The proper study of Mankind is Everything.