Quicker and quicker danced the dust. The moonbeams seemed to quiver as they went by me into the mass of gloom beyond. More and more they gathered till they seemed to take dim phantom shapes. And then I started, broad awake and in full possession of my senses, and ran screaming from the place.

I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe.

The wonder is that you could start life with nothing, end with nothing, and lose so much in between.

“Don’t underestimate the psychological value of that feeling of direct connection with the author as a compensation for what might seem like worldly sacrifice required by heresy.”

My bookish friends, Noah and Leslie, decided to compete for "Best Book" each month. This month, Noah and Leslie submitted “Classic by a female author” for the June book. Two wildly different books with shockingly similar themes surprised me, but ultimately, the competition wasn’t that close.