When life is a horror....Don't look like a ghost!

No wonder many people dare not look closely at life: It's a horrible sight.

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes. Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on. The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men.

God is not an Almighty Being watching over life on earth. God is the Event Horizon of Human Consciousness.

Not everything worth learning is summarized in book. Sometimes you've got to rely on instincts.

Sometimes the journey to love involves some bumpy detours, as any girl with an - ex-fiance will tell you. But I've learned a smooth trip isn't particularly important. Getting there is what matters.