And How Does God Speak To You?"

From Long Familiarity, We Know What Honor Is. It Is What Enables The Individual To Do Right In The Face Of Complacency And Cowardice. It Is What Enables The Soldier To Die Alone, The Political Prisoner To Resist, The Singer To Sing Her Song, Hardly Appreciated, On A Side Street.

He Knew Very Well That Love Could Be Like The Most Beautiful Singing, That It Could Make Death Inconsequential, That It Existed In Forms So Pure And Strong That It Was Capable Of Reordering The Universe. He Knew This, And That He Lacked It, And Yet As He Stood In The Courtyard Of The Palazzo Venezia, Watching Diplomats File Quietly Out The Gate, He Was Content, For He Suspected That To Command The Profoundest Love Might In The End Be Far Less Beautiful A Thing Than To Suffer Its Absence.

I've Never Had A Cup Of Coffee In My Life. I Can't Even Remain In The Same Room With Coffee.

Whatever I Do I've Always Done Not Because I Want Something But To Compensate For A Loss, To Bring About A Balance, To Create Amends, To Make Things Right.

You’ll Join Me Sooner Than You Know In A Place With . . . No Illusions, Where The Truth Is The Only Architecture, The Only Color, The Only Sound--where That Which We Sense Merely On Occasion, And Which Takes Us Up And Gives Us The Rare And Beautiful Glimpses Of The Things We Truly Love, Flows In Deep Rivers And Tumbles About Like Clouds In The Sky.