This year, or this month, or, more likely, this very day,
we have failed to practise ourselves
the kind of behaviour we expect from other people.
C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity
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The gravel road rides with a slow gallop over the fields, the telephone lines streaming behind, its billow of dust full of the sparks of the...
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If you have the words, there's always a chance that you'll find the way. Seamus Heaney, Stepping Ston...
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Tell me: how is this night different, from all other nights? How, tell me, is this Passover, different from other Passovers? Light the lamp,...