I'm Not Altogether Certain That

A Writer Is A Strange Instrument Of Our Species, A Harp Of Sorts, Fine-tuned To The Dark Contradictions Of Life.

I Went Away And Cried To The Master Of The Universe, "what Have You Done To Me? A Mind Like This I Need For A Son? A Heart I Need For A Son, A Soul I Need For A Son, Compassion I Want From My Son, Righteousness, Mercy, Strength To Suffer And Carry Pain, That I Want From My Son, Not A Mind Without A Soul!"

Literature Presents You With Alternate Mappings Of The Human Experience. You See That The Experiences Of Other People And Other Cultures Are As Rich, Coherent, And Troubled As Your Own Experiences. They Are As Beset With Suffering As Yours. Literature Is A Kind Of Legitimate Voyeurism Through The Keyhole Of Language Where You Really Come To Know Other People's Lives--their Anguish, Their Loves, Their Passions. Often You Discover That Once You Dive Into Those Lives And Get Below The Surface, The Veneer, There Is A Real Closeness.

Every Man Who Has Shown The World The Way To Beauty, To True Culture, Has Been A Rebel, A 'universal' Without Patriotism, Without Home, Who Has Found His People Everywhere.

Reuven Listen To Me. The Talmud Says That A Person Should Do Two Things For Himself. One Is To Acquire A Teacher. Do You Remember The Other." "choose A Friend," I Said. "yes. You Know What A Friend Is, Reuven? A Greek Philosopher Said That Two People Who Are True Friends Are Like Two Bodies With One Soul." I Nodded. "reuven, If You Can, Make Danny Saunders Your Friend." "i Like Him A Lot, Abba." "no. Listen To Me. I Am Not Talking About Only Liking Him. I Am Telling You To Make Him Your Friend And To Let Him Make You His Friend.