If Everyone Could Understand The Working Of

Religion Seems To Have Always Offered Us That False Duality ... The Silences Of Infinite Space Or The Cozy Comfort Of Inner Certainty.

Merely To Live Without A Pain Is Little Gladness, Little Gain, Ah, Welcome Joy Tho' Mixt With Grief-- The Thorn-set Flower That Crowns The Leaf.

The Pack Of Media Brayed And Bellowed Outside The House For Seven Weeks. Sol Realized Then What He Had Known And Forgotten About Very Small Communities: They Were Frequently Annoying, Always Parochial, Sometimes Prying On A One-to-one Level, But Never Had They Subscribed To The Vicious Legacy Of The So-called "public's Right To Know".

There Is A Fullness And Calmness There Which Can Come Only From Knowing Pain.

God Is Found In This Life ... To Wait For Another Is Folly.