“A red brick Presbyterian church… captured by kudzu vines as surely as a butterfly in a net.”

When it’s gentle, you go sailing, have a picnic, take a swim.

Death reminds us that we are part of the same river, the same flow from the same source, rushing towards the same destiny. Were you close? Yes, but we didn’t know it then.

The hot, moist smell of babies fresh from naps.

Discover that we are capable of solitary joy and having experienced it, know that we have touched the core of self.

Grief is like the wind. When it’s blowing hard, you adjust your sails and run before it. If it blows too hard, you stay in the harbor, close the hatches and don’t take calls.

From beginning to end this is a wet and blood smeared voyage, this begetting and birthing and moving away.

Siblings may be ambivalent about their relationships in life, but in death the power of their bond strangles the surviving heart.

Bro Snow said I would live to see the time when brothers and sisters would marry each other in this church.

A church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.

She’d barely covered up her long, tan legs in a pair of shorts that made me want to go to church on Sunday just to thank God for creating her. – Beau

It’s not enough to attend church and pray every Sunday; you have to act.

I was raised Catholic, but my father’s people were Methodist, so we went to both churches.

Commercial rock ‘n’ roll music is a brutalization of the stream of contemporary Negro church music an obscene looting of a cultural expression.

The Church is not a gallery for the exhibition of eminent Christians, but a school for the education of imperfect ones.

An average Christian, in an average church, listen to an average Sunday sermon has achieved a level of arrogance simply unimaginable in scientific discourse — and there have been some extraordinary arrogant scientists.