Every Man With His Own Peculiar Vice.

You Can Count The Dead, But You Can't Count The Cost. We've Got No Math For Heaven.

There Are No Days More Full Than Those We Go Back To.

People Think They Know The Mystery Of Living In Your Skin. They Don't. There's No One Who Knows Except The Person Who Carts It Around Her Own Self.

What Corrigan Wanted Was A Fully Believable God, One You Could Find In The Grime Of The Everyday... He Consoled Himself With The Fact That, In The Real World, When He Looked Closely Into The Darkness He Might Find The Presence Of A Light, Damaged And Bruised, But A Little Light All The Same. He Wanted, Quite Simply, For The World To Be A Better Place, And He Was In The Habit Of Hoping For It.

We Seldom Know What We're Hearing When We Hear Something For The First Time, But One Thing Is Certain: We Hear It As We Will Never Hear It Again. We Return To The Moment To Experience It, I Suppose, But We Can Never Really Find It, Only Its Memory, The Faintest Imprint Of What Really Was, What It Meant.