Each Man Dreams His Own Heaven.

I Don't Think," He Said, "that A Vicar Is Supposed To Beat A Bishop To Death, Or Even Back To Death." Mr. Berkeley Looked Down Upon The Remains Of Bishop Bernard. "if Anyone Asks, We'll Say He Fell Over," He Said. "lots Of Times.

You Can't Prove That Something Doesn't Exist. You Can Only Prove That Something Does Exist.

I Dream Dark Dreams. I Dream Of A Figure Moving Through The Forest, Of Children Flying From His Path, Of Young Women Crying At His Coming. I Dream Of Snow And Ice, Of Bare Branches And Moon-cast Shadows. I Dream Of Dancers Floating In The Air, Stepping Lightly Even In Death, And My Own Pain Is But A Faint Echo Of Their Suffering As I Run. My Blood Is Black On The Snow, And The Edges Of The World Are Silvered With Moonlight. I Run Into The Darkness, And He Is Waiting. I Dream In Black And White, And I Dream Of Him. I Dream Of Caleb, Who Does Not Exist, And I Am Afraid.

I Am Sorry," I Whispered. "i Am Sorry For All Of The Ways That I Failed You. I Am Sorry That I Was Not There To Save You, Or To Die Alongside You. I Am Sorry That I Have Kept You With Me For So Long, Trapped In My Heart, Bound In Sorrow And Remorse. I Forgive You Too. I Forgive You For Leaving Me, And I Forgive You For Returning. I Forgive You Your Anger, And Your Grief. Let This Be An End To It.

I Believe In Those Whom I Love And Trust. All Else Is Foolishness. This God Is As Empty As His Church. His Followers Choose To Attribute All Of Their Good Fortune To Him, But When He Ignores Their Pleas Or Leaves Them To Suffer, They Say Only That He Ignores Their Pleas Or Leaves Them To Suffer, They Say Only That He Is Beyond Their Understanding And Abandon Themselves To His Will. What Kind Of God Is That?