The strangeness of dreams is a reflection of how crazy the universe is. While awake, we tell ourselves the fiction that it all makes sense.
It is bracing to read the dictionary, to contrast the precision of the word-book with my own vague approximations.
It’s amazing that all eight billion paths of salvation lead to one narrow gate, though according to Jesus it won’t be crowded there.
The pig undoubtedly dislikes the slaughterhouse experience, but in his place I’d be thinking, get it over with; I have no quality of life back at the factory farm.
Even the most stoic pig will squeal at the butchers.
The most difficult public service job to remain friendly at: motel check-in clerk.
Government is the nanny who prevents the libertarian from cutting down the last tree and catching the final fish.
Humility is absorbing the depressing news about how less than perfect we are while still, after some hesitation, saying yes to God’s mission impossible.
Perfectly good imperfection is the name of the game if you ask me!
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