We Shape Ourselves By Our Imaginative Reach.

One Small Cloud, Cast Out By The Herd, Limps Away To The West.

If They Ask You To Stand Still, You Should Dance.

The Thing About Love Is That We Come Alive In Bodies Not Our Own.

What Corrigan Wanted Was A Fully Believable God, One You Could Find In The Grime Of The Everyday... He Consoled Himself With The Fact That, In The Real World, When He Looked Closely Into The Darkness He Might Find The Presence Of A Light, Damaged And Bruised, But A Little Light All The Same. He Wanted, Quite Simply, For The World To Be A Better Place, And He Was In The Habit Of Hoping For It.

The Essence Of Intelligence Was To Know When, Or If, To Expose Even The Heart's Deep Need For Instruction.