Catholics Don't Scream About Jesus,

Nuts Don’t Come In Bunches. Only Grapes Do.

As An Individual With My Own Hurts, I Go Into The Garden (gethsemane) As Often As I Need To. There I Identify With The Pain In The Other, With My Part In That Pain, My Part In Tempting Someone To Wound Me. I Experience The Other's Pain, And God's Pain, And Am Devastated - Because Their Pain Becomes My Own. Feeling Such Anguish, I Can Forgive, Or Deeply Repent, Either For Myself Or On Behalf Of The Other.

I've Always Been Sort Of Interested In The Rural Countryside. Things Happen Out There That Are Very Strange To City Dwellers.

There's Something About Marriage That Is Not As Intensely Romantic Or Interesting As A Couple's First Meeting.

With Most Of My Books, I'll Actually Go Out And Look At The Setting. If You Describe Things Carefully, It Kind Of Makes The Scene Pop.