There are times when parenthood seems nothing more than feeding the hand that bites you.
The tuba is certainly the most intestinal of instruments, the very lower bowel of music.
We must love one another, yes, yes, that's all true enough, but nothing says we have to like each other.
Let us hope, that a kind Providence will put a speedy end to the acts of God under which we have been laboring.
Pain is the question mark turned like a fishhook in the human heart.
It is the final proof of God's omnipotence that he need not exist in order to save us.
