But There Are No Absolutes

Nor Does God Whisper Through The Trees. His Voice Is Not To Be Mistaken. When Men Hear It They Fall To Their Knees And Their Souls Are Riven And They Cry Out To Him And There Is No Fear But Only Wildness Of Heart That Springs From Such Longing.

Not All Dying Words Are True And This Blessing Is No Less Real For Being Shorn Of Its Ground.

Maybe It's Like Mac Says. Ever Man Winds Up With The Horse That Suits Him.

He Could Not Construct For The Child's Pleasure The World He'd Lost Without Constructing The Loss As Well And He Thought Perhaps The Child Had Known This Better Than He.

Borrowed Time And Borrowed World And Borrowed Eyes With Which To Sorrow It.