He Felt As If He

...to Be Paid For One's Joy Is To Steal.

For What Can Be Imagined More Beautiful Than The Sight Of A Perfectly Just City Rejoicing In Justice Alone.

...this Marvelous Graceful Thing, This Joy Of Physics, This Perfect Balance Between Rebellion And Obedience, Is God's Own Signature On Earth.

They Were Dancing Around The Fountain, Arm In Arm, In An Old Dutch Dance, Their Cheeks Touching, Their Hands Entwined. They Had No Music; They Hummed. And There Was No Reason For Them To Be Dancing That Peter Lake Could See, Except That It Was An Exceptionally Beautiful Night.

How The Holy And The Profane Mix In The Light Of Day And At The End Of Life Is Sometimes The Most Beautiful Thing In This World And A Compassionate Entry Into The Next. After Failure And Defeat, A Concentration Upon Certain Beauties, Though Forever Lost And Unretrievable, Can Lift The Wounded Past Roundedness And The Dying Past Dying, Protecting Them With An Image, Still And Bright, That Will Ride With Them On Their Long Ride, Never To Fade And Never To Retreat.