I Think My Writing Is Part Of

Wisdom Was Not At The Top Of The Graduate-school Mountain, But There At The Sandpile At Sunday School.

I Do Not Want To Know What You Will Hope For. I Want To Know What You Will Work For. I Do Not Want Your Sympathy For The Needs Of Humanity. I Want Your Muscle. As The Wagon Driver Said When They Came To A Long, Hard Hill: ‘them That’s Going On With Us, Get Out And Push. Them That Ain’t, Get Out Of The Way’.

If You Do Not Join The Dancing You Will Feel Foolish. So Why Not Dance? And I Will Tell You A Secret: If You Do Not Join The Dance, We Will Know You Are A Fool. But If You Dance, We Will Think Well Of You For Trying. If You Dance Badly To Begin And We Laugh, What Is The Sin In That? We Will Begin There.

For Thirty Years Now, In Times Of Stress And Strain, When Something Has Me Backed Against The Wall And I'm Ready To Do Something Really Stupid With My Anger, A Sorrowful Face Appears In My Mind And Asks... "problem Or Inconvenience?" I Think Of This As The Wollman Test Of Reality. Life Is Lumpy. And A Lump In The Oatmeal, A Lump In The Throat, And A Lump In The Breast Are Not The Same Lump. One Should Learn The Difference.

Wherever And However Any One Of Us May Be Conceived, It Is The Same. We Come Into Being In The Arms Of God.