That’s What’s So Gorgeous About Humanity. It

Every Now And Then We Enter The Presence Of The Numinous And Deduce For An Instant How We're Formed, In What Detail The Force That Infuses Every Petal Might Specifically Run Through Us, Wishing Only To Lure Us Into Our Full Potential.

I Get About Five Memoirs Per Week In My Mailbox, And Few Of Them Inspire Anything But A Desire To Pick Up The Channel Changer.

I Kept The Fingers Of My Left Hand Crossed All The Time, While On My Right-hand Fingers I Counted Anything At All—steps To The Refrigerator, Seconds On The Clock, Words In A Sentence—to Keep My Head Occupied. The Counting Felt Like Something To Hang On To, As If Finding The Right Numbers Might Somehow Crack The Code On Whatever System Ran The Slippery Universe We Were Moving Through.

For Me, Everything's Too Much And Nothing's Enough.

If You Live In The Dark A Long Time And The Sun Comes Out, You Do Not Cross Into It Whistling. There's An Initial Uprush Of Relief At First, Then-for Me, Anyway- A Profound Dislocation. My Old Assumptions About How The World Works Are Buried, Yet My New Ones Aren't Yet Operational.there's Been A Death Of Sorts, But Without A Few Days In Hell, No Resurrection Is Possible.