“Souls reconstructed with faith transform agony into peace.”

Life’s beginnings, along with all the muted and explosive moments that surface between the two extremes.

Just above our terror, the stars painted this story in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.

There is in Albert Camus’ literary craftsmanship a seductive intelligence that could almost make a reader dismiss his philosophical intentions if he had not insisted on making them so clear.

Passion presented with a greater challenge achieves a greater goal.

And what you know from the depths of your own heart to the peaks of your soul to be true. What happens after that is up to you.

How hard are human beings willing to fight to achieve and sustain justice, equanimity, or joy? And should progress be called such when it devours what is best within the human spirit?

The whole purpose of the construction of The Bridge of Silver Wings was to provide a path leading to The River of Winged Dreams, or to serve as a resting place until the river’s deeper and truer nature revealed itself.

The more sincere the soul, the heavier the cross endured.

How many fears came between us? Earthquakes, diseases, wars where hell rained smoldering pus from skies made of winged death.

Some have speculated that the way [Albert] Camus died made his theories on absurdity a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Compassion crowns the soul with its truest victory.

Everywhere we shine death and life burn into something new.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream was not indicators of weakness but gifts of significant strength.

To what extent will we allow the indefinable dynamics of something called “destiny” to maintain grief and horror in the world?

We rarely get a definitive look at just how complicated and sometimes dangerous their everyday lives were. In fact,

If life is a birthday cake let my face be smeared with its icing of cognac and kindness.