God! How Is It That

A Poor Man With Nothing In His Belly Needs Hope, Illusion, More Than Bread.

The Devil, You See, Is That Friend Who Never Stays With Us To The End.

Chantal's Only Ruse ... Was Her Shattering Simplicity. While A Weak Man Or An Imposter Is Always More Complicated Than The Problem He Is Trying To Solve, And Thinking To Encompass His Adversary, Merely Keeps Prowling Interminably Around Himself, The Heroic Nature Will Throw Itself Into The Heart Of The Danger To Turn It To Its Own Use, Just As Captured Artillery Is Turned About And Aimed At The Backs Of The Fleeing Enemy.

Our Rages, Daughters Of Despair, Creep And Squirm Like Worms. Prayer Is The Only Form Of Revolt Which Remains Upright.

Purity Is Not Imposed Upon Us As Though It Were A Kind Of Punishment, It Is One Of Those Mysterious But Obvious Conditions Of That Supernatural Knowledge Of Ourselves In The Divine, Which We Speak Of As Faith. Impurity Does Not Destroy This Knowledge, It Slays Our Need For It.