In Vita Veritas

I. I believe in the power of
talking bullshit, in the
surge of small words in a
small circle, in a puff of
smoke and the smell of beer.
I want to be reminded of
the petty and the stupid, so
long as we can laugh. Give
me the sacrament of armchairs,
the liturgy of liquor and friends.

II. The flame of Horeb is all-
consuming, begun without
kindling- it cannot die.
Remind me (God! I will
forget) that pity is for
others, anger for myself.

III. Pity good men because they
suffer. Pity bad men because
they are yours, your
bones, your blood, your
brothers. Pity: I have little
else, and nothing so sweet to give.