Just as music is noise that makes sense, a painting is colour that makes sense, so a story is life that makes sense.

Sometimes I got my majors mixed up. A number of my fellow religious-studies students - muddled agnostics who didn't know which way was up, who were in the thrall of reason, that fool's gold for the bright - reminded me of the three-toed sloth; and the three-toed sloth, such a beautiful example of the miracle of life, reminded me of God.

My suffering left me sad and gloomy.

I must say a word about fear. It is life's only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unerring ease. It begins in your mind, always. One moment you are feeling calm, self-possessed, happy. Then fear, disguised in the garb of mild-mannered doubt, slips into your mind like a spy.

Just as music is noise that makes sense, a painting is colour that makes sense, so a story is life that makes sense.

It is true that those we meet can change us, sometimes so profoundly that we are not the same afterwards, even unto our names.

Life on a lifeboat isn't much of a life.