I do have a regard for the musicality of language that came from BBC sitcoms like 'Fawlty Towers.'

There's an interconnectivity between what's in the consciousness of cat and what's in the consciousness of us.

Consciousness exists beyond your head, between our heads, and it can manifest harmony.

No one shuts their laptop after looking at pornography and says, 'What a productive time I just spent connecting with the world!'

God is in the mountains. Impassive, immovable, jagged giants, separating the celestial from the terrestrial with eternal diagonal certainty. As if silently monitoring the beating heart of the creator from the universe's perfect birth. Stood in the thin air and the awe, one inhales God, involuntarily acknowledging that we are but fragments of a whole, a higher thing. The mountains remind me of my place, as a servant to truth and wonder. Yes, God is in the mountains. Perhaps the pulpit too and even in the piety of an atheist's sigh. I don't know; but I feel him in the mountains.

What I might do is watch Mrs Doubtfire. Or Dead Poets Society or Good Will Hunting and I might be nice to people, mindful today how fragile we all are, how delicate we are, even when fizzing with divine madness that seems like it will never expire.

The priority of any addict is to anaesthetise the pain of living to ease the passage of day with some purchased relief.