Little Siberia

What’s that got to do with prayer? Does the hunting club pray? Is that what you mean? “Lord, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy elk? Give us this day, our daily moose”?’

any case, the grand scheme of things remains a mystery to us. The only thing that’s clear is that such a scheme, a plan, really does exist. Either it is based on chance and is shaped by it, a grand cosmic game of roulette, or there is a predefined beginning and an end, and everything in between is simply movement towards that end, and in that movement everything has its own place and meaning. Either by chance or by design, what will be will be.

It seems that the turning points in our lives are always associated with a strange combination of the banal and the extraordinary

sometimes it’s wiser to do nothing than to run headlong into an apple tree.’

the quest for perfection is futile; perfection simply doesn’t exist. Someone else can try to find it, but not me.

you have to draw a line in the sand.

And that line runs right here, right through me.

think how reality seems to escape our assumptions with increasing regularity,