John Hall, My Geography Teacher At School

It Was A Strange Feeling Going Into A Church I Did Not Know For A Service That I Did Not Really Believe In, But Once Inside I Couldn't Help A Feeling Of Warmth And Security. Outside There Were Wars And Road Accidents And Murders, Striptease Clubs And Battered Babies And Frayed Tempers And Unhappy Marriages And People Contemplating Suicide And Bad Jokes, But Once In St. Martin's There Was Peace. Surely People Go To Church Not To Involve Themselves In The World's Problems But To Escape From Them.

My Parents Have Been Married Forty-two Years. I Wonder How Many Of Those Were Happy.

As I Work In The Afternoon On Committing To Paper Some Of My Morning's Thoughts, I Find Myself Just About To Close On The Knotty Question Of Whether Or Not I Believe In God. In Fact I Am About To Type, 'i Do Not Believe In God', When The Sky Goes Black As Ink, There Is A Thunderclap And A Huge Crash Of Thunder And A Downpour Of Epic Proportions. I Never Do Complete The Sentence.

I Am Certainly More Interested In Interviewing Than Being Interviewed. Sometimes You Find Yourself Attacked From The Start.

I Will Die, But Not Retire.