In the digital age we let our fingers do the talking

Friendly competition is heaven on… Culture war is hell on wheels Of time But now that our culture’s wheels… We’ll soon be out of time

When people give you the silent treatment have them put it in writing

If you don’t trust God You try to control others But eventually find That you can’t control those Who trust in God

It’s no coincidence that a mirror… making all self-examination a form… in which I observe myself to remak… in my own image This only works if I believe

Ignorance is bliss but playing dumb hollows out the abyss

There are no endings neither happy nor sad– Does this make you happy or sad? I pretend to answer the question by preferring songs that end

You can’t be free of self-consciousness so you have to be free with self-consciousness; we call this condition

Love is never generic– It is always specific to our genet… And in the giving we are both gene… And generative as we make the worl… Also making us generals, taking ch…

Who is my trainer? God Who is my sparring partner? God Who is my cornerman?

Serve (one another) and Play (together)

I’ve been racking my brains for the perfect response to accusations of perfectionism only to land at a conundrum: a confession of false modesty is

I have a prediction to make: We can’t predict the ending But when it’s all said and done Everything will seem obvious For example,

Only a fool believes that the river obeys the riverbed

I could do a passable moonwalk in socks on linoleum but if I put on one glove I had to take off one sock