She gave me a plain look. It was very easy to interpret her contempt. But not so lovely to feel it washing over me. That’s when I began running.

Is it sacrilege to smile at the priest while he is holding up the bread and wine,? Don’t answer because as long as I don’t know it’s not a sin ,although willful ignorance could be a sin but it’s a different sin from the first one

Yet even that might annoy God. But can we really believe that god is looking  at us all day long when he went through the ordeal of losing his only son on Calvary? The two things don’t seem compatible somehow.

I wonder what the people who used to make wooden confessionals the Catholic churches do to make their living now because I don’t think many people ever go to the confessional on a Saturday night and say they will never sin again. If it was changed to Sunday night they will do better in terms of numbers at least

the artist can regain what Yeats calls ‘the old nonchalance of the hand.’ For Milner, as for her contemporary T.S. Eliot, ‘The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.’

Come down,oh Blog divine.

Clean this light mind of mine,

And Kindle it with thine own Amazon password.

O Holy Spirit,draw real near;

Make all my strains disappear.

And subscribe me to all the intriguing and wonderful Websites I’ve never heard of.

Come down like summer rain

Wash off our 

Lsuffering and our pain

Kindle us with spirits whole

Tell us what the prophets foretold

Gather us into your heart red

Sleep well on your divine bed