The Externals Are Simply So

Everything Is Chance, Or Nothing Is Chance. If I Believed The First, I Would Be Unable To Live On, But I Am Not Yet Fully Convinced Of The Second.

Sometimes I Try My Hand At Turning Out Small Profundities And Uncertain Short Stories, But I Always End Up With Just One Single Word: God.

If One Burdens The Future With One's Worries, It Cannot Grow Organically. I Am Filled With Confidence, Not That I Shall Succeed In Worldly Things, But That Even When Things Go Badly For Me I Shall Still Find Life Good And Worth Living.

I Think What Weakens People Most Is Fear Of Wasting Their Strength.

Sometimes I Long For A Convent Cell, With The Sublime Wisdom Of Centuries Set Out On Bookshelves All Along The Wall And A View Across The Cornfields--there Must Be Cornfields And They Must Wave In The Breeze--and There I Would Immerse Myself In The Wisdom Of The Ages And In Myself. Then I Might Perhaps Find Peace And Clarity. But That Would Be No Great Feat. It Is Right Here, In This Very Place, In The Here And The Now, That I Must Find Them.