[T]he Dollar is always too light, a genuine Holy Ghost, more precious than blood.
Journey to the End of the NightLove is a trap. When it appears, we see only its light, not its shadows.
By the River Piedra I Sat Down and WeptHarry," Bob drawled, his eye lights flickering smugly, "what you know about women, I could juggle.
Storm FrontMay the light of God's love lead us always through the valleys.
Still, Love Remains: God's Crimson Threads of Grace