Fiction Writing Feels More Honest To Me.

Is The Work Of Sun Worshippers To Honor Those Who Think They Can See The Sun? Or To Worship The Sun?

In A Head-on Collision With Fanatics, The Real Problem Is Always The Same: How Can We Possibly Behave Decently Toward People So Arrogantly Ignorant That They Believe, First, That They Possess Christ's Power To Bestow Salvation, Second, That Forcing Us To Memorize And Regurgitate A Few Of Their Favorite Bible Phrases And Attend Their Church Is That Salvation, And Third, That Any Discomfort, Frustration, Anger Or Disagreement We Express In The Face Of Their Moronic Barrages Is Due Not To Their Astounding Effrontery But To Our Sinfulness?

There Are Many Things Worth Telling That Are Not Quite Narrative. And Eternity Itself Possesses No Beginning, Middle Or End. Fossils, Arrowheads, Castle Ruins, Empty Crosses: From The Parthenon To The Bo Tree To A Grown Man's Or Woman's Old Stuffed Bear, What Moves Us About Many Objects Is Not What Remains But What Has Vanished. There Comes A Time, Thanks To Rivers, When A Few Beautiful Old Teeth Are All That Remain Of The Two-hundred-foot Spires Of Life We Call Trees. There Comes A River, Whose Current Is Time, That Does A Similar Sculpting In The Mind.

To Me, It's A Great Day Every Time I Receive A Letter From Somebody Who Climbed Inside One Of My Books, Inhabited It For A While, Learned A Little Something, And Emerged Grateful.

The Principles That Will Save Earth's Life Are The Same Principles That Save The Living Souls Of Humans: Ineluctable Spiritual Principles.