And They'll Vote For Me Because I'm

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

She Died On A Windy Gray Day In March When The Sky Was Full Of Darting Crows And The World Lay Prostrate And Defeated After Winter. Peter Lake Was At Her Side And It Ruined Him Forever. It Broke Him As He Had Not Ever Imagined He Could Have Been Broken. He Would Never Again Be Young, Or Able To Remember What It Was Like To Be Young. What He Had Once Taken To Be Pleasures Would Appear To Him In His Defeat As Hideous And Deserved Punishments For Reckless Vanity.

All Great Discoveries...are Products As Much Of Doubt As Of Certainty, And The Two In Opposition Clear The Air For Marvelous Accidents.

He Knew Very Well That Love Could Be Like The Most Beautiful Singing, That It Could Make Death Inconsequential, That It Existed In Forms So Pure And Strong That It Was Capable Of Reordering The Universe. He Knew This, And That He Lacked It, And Yet As He Stood In The Courtyard Of The Palazzo Venezia, Watching Diplomats File Quietly Out The Gate, He Was Content, For He Suspected That To Command The Profoundest Love Might In The End Be Far Less Beautiful A Thing Than To Suffer Its Absence.

The Best Way To Meet A Woman Is In An Emergency Situation - If You're In A Shipwreck, Or You Find Yourself Behind Enemy Lines, Or In A Flood.