There are so many kinds of time. The time by which we measure our lives. Months and years. Or the big time, the time that raises mountains and makes stars. Or all the things that happen between one heartbeat and the next. Its hard to live in all those kinds of times. Easy to forget that you live in all of them.

Is there any evidence to the contrary? I don't need certainty in order to act on a well-founded suspicion.

We're as ephemeral as raindrops. We all fall, and we all land somewhere.

Some pious men may find this truth unorthodox and bitter: But Nature, Chance, and Time ensure survival of the fitter!

Nobody wants to conduct an autopsy on a dead saint.

It was the kind of experience, Molly said, that would grow calluses on an angel's ass.

It was possible at last to hear the silence to appreciate that there was a silence, deep and potent, out there beyond the pretension of the light.