Because you cannot see him, God is everywhere.

From the way of Go the beauty of Japan and the Orient had fled. Everything had become science and regulation.

The snow on the distant mountains was soft and creamy, as if veiled in a faint smoke.

A child walked by, rolling a metal hoop that made a sound of autumn.

THE TRAIN came out of the long tunnel into the snow country.

A poetess who had died young of cancer had said in one of her poems that for her, on sleepless nights, 'the night offers toads and black dogs and corpses of the drowned.

Because you cannot see him, God is everywhere.