See, I don’t expect to win a prize for stoic control and dignity at mourning time. Death deserve tantrums. Beating back shocked indignation, kicks in the groin, stones, classified unacceptable, not to be tolerated, not to be wooed, not to be conspired with. Only then can music, dance, movies, plays, rap be about life. Only then can life be cherished and adored.

A trustworthy marriage has weathered temptation and anger and jealousy, resentment, self-righteousness and a little bit of selfishness. When you get over and get through that, then maybe you can see the light to love.

Classism and greed are making insignificant all the other kinds of isms.

God, make me so uncomfortable that I will do the very thing I fear.

When you know my love, my love will warm you.

OK, boss, I don't mind shuffling, but I won't scratch my head.

Paradise is to be the ultimate instrument, fulfilling God's desperate intent that we love each other.