There's Something About Rushing Water That I

Because There Were All Kinds Of Hell - Some Were Black And Dirty, And Some Were Silvery And High.

And How Does God Speak To You?" "in The Language Of Everything That Is Beautiful.

Winter Then In Its Early And Clear Stages, Was A Purifying Engine That Ran Unhindered Over City And Country, Alerting The Stars To Sparkle Violently And Shower Their Silver Light Into The Arms Of Bare Upreaching Trees. It Was A Mad And Beautiful Thing That Scoured Raw The Souls Of Animals And Man, Driving Them Before It Until They Loved To Run. And What It Did To Northern Forests Can Hardly Be Described, Considering That It Iced The Branches Of The Sycamores On Chrystie Street And Swept Them Back And Forth Until They Rang Like Ranks Of Bells.

Particularly As A Jew, I Don't Like Missionary Work. I've Had It Focused On Me, And I Don't Like It. Let People Be What They Want To Be.

...this Marvelous Graceful Thing, This Joy Of Physics, This Perfect Balance Between Rebellion And Obedience, Is God's Own Signature On Earth.