Life is a pilgrimage. The wise man does not rest by the roadside inns. He marches direct to the illimitable domain of eternal bliss, his ultimate destination.
Go where the pain is, go where the pleasure is.
And I realized that I’d tolerated him this long because of self-doubt.
I was obsessed with religious questions, the basics: Why are we here? Why is the world so beautiful?
I find at moments I'm as fragile as glass.
The earth here is beautiful. And it still belongs to the dead.
Evil is a point of view. . . God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately. . . for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are none so like him as ourselves.
What all the wise men promised has not happened and what all the dammed fools said would happen has come to pass.
Most gods have the morals of a spoiled child.
Through the opened heart, the world comes rushing in, the way oceans fill the smallest hole along the shore. It is the quietest sort of miracle: by simply being who we are, the world will come to fill us, to cleanse us, to baptize us, again and again.
Feminism as a movement for political and social equity is important, but feminism as an academic clique committed to eccentric doctrines about human nature is not. Eliminating discrimination against women is important, but believing that women and men are born with indistinguishable minds is not. Freedom of choice is important, but ensuring that women make up exactly 50 percent of all professions is not. And eliminating sexual assaults is important, but advancing the theory that rapists are doing their part in a vast male conspiracy is not.