And so, finally, he’d found his way back to baseball. Nothing like it really. Not the actual game so much-to tell the truth, real baseball bored him-but rather the records, the statistics, the peculiar balances between individual and team, offense and defense, strategy and luck, accident and pattern, power and intelligence. And no other activity in the world had so precise and comprehensive a history, so specific an ethic, and at the same time, strange as it seemed, so much ultimate mystery.
We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.
One day we shall all face the truth and reality that we all hate.
Only God can set the soul in bondage free.
Repentance of spirit, resurrection of soul.
There comes a moment in life when one must acknowledge that you just can’t keep looking back into your past for reasons to keep someone in your present and future. Regardless of how much looking that cruel reality in the eye hurts…memories can’t be enough.
I got a kick out of those who whined about their soul. Worried they were losing it. Let’s get one thing straight, you didn’t lose your soul. You always knew where it was or where it went, you cannot lose something you gave away or sold or had broken past repair. Your soul was like your arm, you didn’t lose your arm. Your arm was either there or it wasn’t, and you usually knew why it wasn’t there
Don’t see where people are today and think they have always been there; it took a journey of faith.
Well I am glad I have something of the fool in my disposition–foolishness being the only quality that makes wisdom possible.