That Is The Mystery Of Grace: It

The Grandeur Of Man Lies In Song, Not In Thought.

I Write Whenever It Suits Me. During A Creative Period I Write Every Day; A Novel Should Not Be Interrupted. When I Cease To Be Carried Along, When I No Longer Feel As Though I Were Taking Down Dictation, I Stop.

A Man's Passion For The Mountain Is, Above All, His Childhood Which Refuses To Die.

To Love Someone Is To See A Miracle Invisible To Others.

The Man Who Partakes In The Breaking Of The Bread Dares To Build His House On The Very Core Of Love. He Becomes, As It Were, Godlike, But Regardless Of The Strength He Derives From It, His Free Will Remains. We Are Always Free To Disown This Immense Grace, To Abuse It. The Greatest Love May Be Betrayed. Fed On The Living Bread, We Nevertheless Conceal A Part Of Ourselves Which Longs For Swine's Food.