A Silent Lover Is One Who Doesn't

The Shock Of Unemployment Becomes A Pathology In Its Own Right.

We Are So Impressed By Scientific Clank That We Feel We Ought Not To Say That The Sunflower Turns Because It Knows Where The Sun Is. It Is Almost Second Nature To Us To Prefer Explanations . . . With A Large Vocabulary. We Are Much More Comfortable When We Are Assured That The Sunflower Turns Because It Is Heliotropic. The Trouble With That Kind Of Talk Is That It Tempts Us To Think That We Know What The Sunflower Is Up To. But We Don't. The Sunflower Is A Mystery, Just As Every Single Thing In The Universe Is.

The Bread And The Pastry, The Cheeses And Wine, And The Sugar Go Into The Supper Of The Lamb Because We Do. It Is Our Love That Brings The City Home. It Is I Grant You, An Incautious And Extravagant Hope. But Only Outlandish Hopes Can Make Themselves At Home.

It Is Precisely Because No One Needs Soup, Fish, Meat, Salad, Cheese, And Dessert At One Meal That We So Badly Need To Sit Down To Them From Time To Time. It Was Largesse That Made Us All; We Were Not Created To Fast Forever... Enter Here, Therefore, As A Sovereign Remedy For The Narrowness Of Our Minds And The Stinginess Of Our Souls.

We Were Given Appetites, Not To Consume The World And Forget It, But To Taste Its Goodness And Hunger To Make It Great.