To the First World,
life is time consuming –

but in the real world,
time is life consuming.

Be mindful — for only
the wise live the difference.

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Hard hearts

make soft hands.

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The earth has many talents,

but The Artist directs them all.

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When lightning cuts across the sky,
the voice of God echoes in the thunder.

Powerless, humanity stands in awe
of The Almighty, intent only upon survival.

Having seen the fragile flickers of a full life
even one well-lived, the soul praises

the invisible God
with open eyes.

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There is more hope for a fool

who does not know any better

than there is for a pastor of pretense.

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Encouragment is for amateurs,

but the experienced artist

craves constructive criticism.

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Grief must always endure a season of winter

before giving birth to the joy of summer.

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Self-righteousness

is a fantasy made manifest.

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The mind must always be the servant of the art — never its master.

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1. Prayer confuses me.

2. I do not believe I have accomplished very much of anything in my life.

3. Especially with my writing.

4. I get offended when somebody reminds me that God cares about me.

5. I do not know how to love a fanatic.

6. I am sick to death of inspiration.

7. And I get fucking livid when I find Christians who have two homes.

My son,

Do not live any day as if it is your last, but love every day as if the people you hold so dear to your heart will soon be gone –

– because they will.
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Intellectuality is the nemesis of instinct.

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by definition, that makes me a failure.

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those most often most worth remembering.

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A supportive community that insists upon exclusivity

crosses the threshold into the abyss of collective narcissism

the instant any idea or aspect of that community is challenged.

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