Especially Difficult When The First And Best

He Saw That No One Owned Anything Really. It's All Rented, Or Borrowed. Our Possessions Will Outlast Us, We'll Desert Them In The End.

Be Wary Of Too Much Calm, Particularly In Your Mid-fifties.

But How To Do Feelings? All Very Well To Write "she Felt Sad", Or Describe What A Sad Person Might Do, But What Of Sadness Itself, How Was That Put Across So It Could Be Felt In All Its Lowering Immediacy? Even Harder Was The Threat, Or The Confusion Of Feeling Contradictory Things.

And Now She Was Back In The World, Not One She Could Make, But The One That Had Made Her, And She Felt Herself Shrinking Under The Early Evening Sky. She Was Weary Of Being Outdoors, But She Was Not Ready To Go In. Was That Really All There Was In Life, Indoors Or Out? Wasn't There Somewhere Else For People To Go?

I'm Not Against Religion In The Sense That I Feel I Can't Tolerate It, But I Think Written Into The Rubric Of Religion Is The Certainty Of Its Own Truth. And Since There Are 6,000 Religions Currently On The Face Of The Earth, They Can't All Be Right. And Only The Secular Spirit Can Guarantee Those Freedoms And It's The Secular Spirit That They Contest.