It could be that our faithlessness is a cowering cowardice born of our >>
I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, and I am getting >>
I don't know what it is about fecundity that so appalls. I suppose it >>
Virginity is now a mere preamble or waiting room to be got out of as s >>
I'm hurt, hurt and humiliated beyond endurance, seeing the wheat ripen >>
I don't know what it is about fecundity that so appalls. I suppose it >>
I don't know what it is about fecundity that so appalls. I suppose it is the teeming evidence that birth and growth, which we value, are ubiquitous and blind, that life itself is so astonishingly cheap, that nature is as careless as it is bountiful, and that with extravagance goes a crushing waste that will one day include our own cheap lives.