They Are Universal Places, Like

As We Live Our Precarious Lives On The Brink Of The Void, Constantly Coming Closer To A State Of Nonbeing, We Are All Too Often Aware Of Our Fragitlity.

Real Worship Involves Waiting.

There Is No Beyond, There Is Only Here, The Infinitely Small, Infinitely Great And Utterly Demanding Present.

People From A Planet Without Flowers Would Think We Must Be Mad With Joy The Whole Time To Have Such Things About Us.

Only Love Has Clear Vision. Hatred Has Cloudy Vision. When We Hate We Know Not What We Do.