The earth is crammed with heaven and every common bush afire with God, but only those with eyes to see take off their shoes, the rest sit around and pluck blackberries.
Poetry must be new as foam, and as old as the rock.
People are self-centered to a nauseous degree. They will keep on about themselves while I'm explaining me.
The Ontological Argument - Proslogion Ch II ...since the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God? (Psalms…