Despite Everything, Life Is Full Of Beauty

I Would Be So Exhausted By My Determination That I Had No Strength Left To Do The Actual Work.

A Desire To Kneel Down Sometimes Pulses Through My Body, Or Rather It Is As If My Body Has Been Meant And Made For The Act Of Kneeling. Sometimes, In Moments Of Deep Gratitude, Kneeling Down Becomes An Overwhelming Urge, Head Deeply Bowed, Hands Before My Face.

Greed Probably Figures In My Intellectual Life As Well, As I Attempt To Absorb A Massive Amount Of Information With Consequent Mental Indigestion.

Sometimes I Long For A Convent Cell, With The Sublime Wisdom Of Centuries Set Out On Bookshelves All Along The Wall And A View Across The Cornfields--there Must Be Cornfields And They Must Wave In The Breeze--and There I Would Immerse Myself In The Wisdom Of The Ages And In Myself. Then I Might Perhaps Find Peace And Clarity. But That Would Be No Great Feat. It Is Right Here, In This Very Place, In The Here And The Now, That I Must Find Them.

Sometimes I Feel That Every Word Spoken And Every Gesture Made Merely Serve To Exacerbate Misunderstandings. Then What I Would Really Like Is To Escape Into A Great Silence And Impose That Silence On Everyone Else.