Saturday, 16 September 2006


Sin is dull. The grinding, repetitive mill of iniquity runs on and on ... but if you step out of the motion for a moment: how crude the machinery, and how dreadfully boring!

The silent recesses of contemplation are far more exciting. Too exciting, in fact, because I hide from them. Sin asks too little from us, prayer seems to ask too much. How does one explain the thrill of silence?

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