This guy was making me tired. “Thanks for the afternoon’s entertainment,” I said. “I’ll flush a copy of my bill down the toilet. You should be getting it in a couple of days.
What often matters more than the activity we're doing at a moment in time is how we feel about it.
Indifference is more truly the opposite of love than hate is, for we can both love and hate the same person at the same time, but we cannot both love and be indifferent to the same person at the same time.
I cannot let my blood pressure rise because someone wishes to spread his or her bad day around, as if to dilute instead of multiply it.
I discuss my beliefs less because I bed my atheist, who cannot believe in much more sacred than our kisses.
Nothing in my beliefs tells me to let my relationship with the divine interfere with romantic love, the friction of sects never getting in the way of the friction of sex.
What would it be like to feel so attached, so intrinsically bonded, so protective of one’s own best connection with time and the ages, of generations past and future, of another human life, of their time?
We are left at the brink of our future each day and the only real choice we have is not to jump but instead make our path through the briar.
In difficult times bring to mind my words and the sound of my voice. In that way, I shall always be present for you.
Having ascended to some spiritual strength by focusing on the power of the feminine, it is no doubt tempting to wield this strength against that which triggers memories of having once been weaker.
Women are seen as imperfect or unclean, because of a myth of a tempting apple, because they bleed monthly, because they lack equivalent upper body strength.
They act as if their religion were a celestial gumball machine, taking no blame for personal failures because they won't manifest their will in the real world by working for their goals.
If you can't feel the touch of the gods on your own, it greatly behooves you to work on that before some lecher tells you his touch is just as good.
My soul is not satisfied with an inert universe. The gods may not make a habit of speaking to me personally, but I can't help but whisper comments to them.
Loving her has become a part of my religion, a gentle mantra with every beating of my heart. I cannot imagine its Ragnarok without wilting.
Like language, I think any who have not acquired spirituality by a certain age are doomed to be never fluent and you are likely to mimic the one that surrounds you.
Those who mouth your sacred words with an accent you deem wrong annoy you more than those speaking something you cannot understand.
Most magick I have experienced can be written off as a stew of psychology and coincidence, and I truly believe this is where magick is best worked.
Hades does not have a runny nose. I know this. The entire Greek pantheon no doubt knows this. For some reason, my nose is unaware of this basic fact of mythology.
If she had some level of theism, we might have a shared theological root from which I could shape holy words.
Hard times are a-coming, and people without useful, practical skills are going to suffer. Or suffer most.
