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It was like a quest with no object in view at the end of it—no Grail, no sword plunged into an anvil.
No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just … come out the other side. Or you don’t.
Religious mania is one of the few infallible ways of responding to the world’s vagaries, because it totally eliminates pure accident. To the true religious maniac, it’s all on purpose.
There is really nothing so comforting to the beaten of spirit or the broken of skull than a good strong dose of “Thy will be done.”
The place where you made your stand never mattered. Only that you were there … and still on your feet.
Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long. And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.
