The closer you get to real matter, rock air fire and wood, boy, the more spiritual the world is.

When I talked to him on the phone yesterday. I called him George rather than Mr. Vice President. But, in public, it&#39;s Mr. Vice President, because that is who he is.

Demonstrate your goodness in a loud manner so that people will notice it.

The gate clicks behind me. The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups by chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty.

Written By Margaret Atwood

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