Long Ago, Long Ago. The Simple Things

The Tunnels Of Our Lives Connect, Coming To Daylight At The Oddest Moments, And Then Plunge Us Into The Dark Again. We Return To The Lives Of Those Who Have Gone Before Us, A Perplexing Möbius Strip Until We Come Home, Eventually, To Ourselves.

There Is Always Room For At Least Two Truths.

He Told Me Once That There Was No Better Faith Than A Wounded Faith And Sometimes I Wonder If That Is What He Was Doing All Along --trying To Wound His Faith In Order To Test It--and I Was Just Another Stone In The Way Of His God.

I Think The Northern Ireland Accent Is One Of The Most Beautiful In The World.

I Gave Them All The Truth And None Of The Honesty.