This Morning The World By

One Of The Things That Is Wonderful About Hymns Is That They Are A Sort Of Universally Shared Poetry, At Least Among Certain Populations. There Isn't Much Of That Anymore Either. There Are Very Few Poems People Can Recite, But There Are Quite A Few Hymns That, If You Hum A Few Bars, People Can At Least Come Up With Two Verses. Many Of The Older Hymns Are Very Beautiful.

People Who Feel Any Sort Of Regret Where You Are Concerned Will Suppose You Are Angry, And They Will See Anger In What You Do, Even If You're Just Quietly Going About A Life Of Your Own Choosing. They Will Make You Doubt Yourself, Which, Depending On Cases, Can Be A Severe Distraction And A Waste Of Time. This Is A Thing I Wish I Had Understood Much Earlier Than I Did.

Sometimes My Doubt Seems Intuitive, But Most Likely It Derives From An Implausibility Or A Logical Problem I May At First Find Difficult To Identify And Articulate. It Is Interesting To Me To Work Through Questions That Arise In This Way.

She Knew That Was Not An Honest Prayer, And She Did Not Linger Over It. The Right Prayer Would Have Been, Lord . . . I Am Miserable And Bitter At Heart, And Old Fears Are Rising Up In Me So That Everything I Do Makes Everything Worse.

I'm Really Disturbed By The Degree To Which I Don't Hear People Saying, "are We Leaving The World Better Than We Found It?" I Think We Are A Generation That Perhaps Could Not Answer In The Affirmative, And It Is The Evasion Of The Larger Responsibility Of Being Only One Generation In What One Hopes Will Be An Infinite Series Of Fruitful Generations. There Is A Selfishness In Refusing To Understand That We Are Passing Through; Others Will Come, And They Deserve Certain Courtesies And Certain Considerations From Us.