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haphazard aloneness of it all,
Oh, beagle, isn’t it the truth? That moment when you write a single, perfect sentence is worth more than an entire box of biscuits.
It was nothing but noise, a question for the sake of speaking and not for the sake of inquiry.
From time to time I believe I’ve found The Answer to Life, and right now I think it’s spinach.
We don’t deserve anything—not the suffering and not the golden light. It just comes.
Because in this present moment we always feel that we have fully arrived. We believe we are fair and sensitive, helpful, kind, no longer predatory or racist.
