There is no heresy or no philosophy which is so abhorrent to the church as a human being.
Writing in English is the most ingenious torture ever devised for sins committed in previous lives. The English reading public explains the reason why.
You made me confess the fears that I have. But I will tell you also what I do not fear. I do not fear to be alone or to be spurned for another or to leave whatever I have to leave. And I am not afraid to make a mistake, even a great mistake, a lifelong mistake and perhaps as long as eternity too.
Like distant music these words that he had written years before were borne towards him from the past.
I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.
Why is it that words like these seem dull and cold? Is it because there is no word tender enough to be your name?