I mean some doctor told me I had six months to live and I went to their funeral.
writing is like being in love. You never get better at it or learn more about it. The day you think you do is the day you lose it. Robert Frost called his work a lover's quarrel with the world. It's ongoing. It has neither a beginning nor an end. You don't have to worry about learning things. The fire of one's art burns all the impurities from the vessel that contains it.
Just beyond the ticket booth Father had painted on a wall in bright red letters the question: DO YOU KNOW WHICH IS THE MOST DANGEROUS ANIMAL IN THE ZOO? An arrow pointed to a small curtain. There were so many eager, curious hands that pulled at the curtain that we had to replace it regularly. Behind it was a mirror.
I looked at her, with her hair spilled out on the pillows and the warmth of her body warming mine. And I thought, god-dang, if this ain't a heck of a way to be in bed with a pretty woman. The two of you arguing about murder, and threatening each other, when you're supposed to be in love and you could be doing something pretty nice. And then I thought, well, maybe it ain't so strange after all. Maybe it's like this with most people, everyone doing pretty much the same thing except in a different way. And all the time they're holding heaven in their hands.
The Master of Life's been good to me. He has given me strength to face past illnesses, and victory in the face of defeat. He has given me life and joy where other saw oblivion. He Has given new purpose to live for, new services to render and old wounds to heal.Life and love go on, let the music play.
The heat intensified. My emotions were spinning out of control. The euphoria was maddening. Out of pure instinct, I pulled away and leaned against the wall, unable to find enough air to breathe. The more I pulled away, the strong the raw ache inside of me became, causing me more pain than the lack of oxygen in the room. Then I realized the source of my pain. It dawned on me with a shocking certainty. I hadn't wanted to pull away from Nathan. I needed him closer in order to feel safe. I needed his touch, his feel. I needed him now more than I ever had.
Other men have said, If I could only live, I would establish and perpetuate an empire. This Christ of Galilee says, My death shall do it. Other martyrs have died in simple fidelity to truth. This martyr dies that He may make His truth mighty over all hearts. He was a man; but was He only a man?