“I turn to right and left, in all the earth I see no signs of justice, sense or worth: A man does evil deeds, and all his days Are filled with luck and universal praise; Another’s good in all he does – he dies A wretched, broken man whom all despise.”

I am deathless, I am the eternal Lord For I have spread the seed of the Word.

But all this world is like a tale we hear – Men’s evil, and their glory, disappear.

From moment then to moment their desire Gained strength, and wisdom fled before love’s fire; Passion engulfed them, and these lovers lay Entwined together till the break of day.

Our lives pass from us like the wind, and why Should wise men grieve to know that they must die? The Judas blossom fades, the lovely face Of light is dimmed, and darkness takes its place.

The promise given was a necessity of the past: the word broken is a necessity of the present.

Like most sensible people, you probably lost interest in modern art about the time that Julian Schnabel was painting broken pieces of the crockery that his wife had thrown at him for painting broken pieces of crockery instead of painting the bathroom and hall.

The only time my records are going to be broken is by my own spawn. I’m going be training that child out the womb.

The tragedy is not that things are broken.

Forgiveness is the answer to the child’s dream of a miracle by which what is broken is made whole again, what is soiled is made clean again.

There are now that 20 consent decrees in place like the one in Baltimore that are helping put broken police departments on a path to reform. And this is long work.

Achievement without fulfillment “High achievement without fulfillment is a broken way of life.”

But when I know that the glass is already broken, every minute with it is precious.