I Have A Rigid Self-accountability. You Have

Yet What Keeps Me From Dissolving Right Now Into A Complete Fairy-tale Shimmer Is This Solid Truth, A Truth Which Has Veritably Built My Bones Over The Last Few Years--i Was Not Rescued By A Prince; I Was The Administrator Of My Own Rescue.

I Wanted To Experience Both. I Wanted Worldly Enjoyment And Divine Transcendence. I Wanted What The Greeks Called Kalos Kai Agathos, The Singular Balance Of The Good And The Beautiful. I'd Been Missing Both During These Last Hard Years, Because Both Pleasure And Devotion Require A Stress-free Space In Which To Flourish And I'd Been Living In A Giant Trash Compactor Of Nonstop Anxiety. As For How To Balance The Urge For Pleasure Against The Longing For Devotion...well, Surely There Was A Way To Learn That Trick.

Moss Grows Where Nothing Else Can Grow. It Grows On Bricks. It Grows On Tree Bark And Roofing Slate. It Grows In The Arctic Circle And In The Balmiest Tropics; It Also Grows On The Fur Of Sloths, On The Backs Of Snails, On Decaying Human Bones. ... It Is A Resurrection Engine. A Single Clump Of Mosses Can Lie Dormant And Dry For Forty Years At A Stretch, And Then Vault Back Again Into Life With A Mere Soaking Of Water.

Nothing Is So Essential As Dignity…time Will Reveal Who Has It And Who Has It Not.

Whenever I Would Feel Such Happiness My Guilt Alarm Went Off