Saturday, November 3, 2012


Do those who are blind from birth
make up for not having the gift
of seeing colors by having the gift
of hearing differing tones -  sensing
so many varying  sounds - or having
the gift of  and acute sense of feeling 
so many differences in the things 
we touch and feel: hardness, softness, 
dry, wet, cold,hot, this, that? 
In the meanwhile those of us 
who have the gift of sight
hopefully we see and celebrate
the rainbow of colors in the things
around us - seeing the blendings and twirls
and fadings and shadings on walls and
skin and flowers and all the colorful wonders
of this great big world we live in. Amen.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2012

Quote for Today - November 3, 2012

“Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.” 

Pablo Picasso

Friday, November 2, 2012


Orange: a notice me color….
Orange: highway cones and life vests….
An orange: delicious - great packaging -
encasing tasty pulp and juice
and vitamins - for the taker to enjoy
Orange: the sun sometimes -
the burning center of energy
for our earth - round - a circle.
Some of those ancients
had to have figured out this earth
was round - round like an orange -
round like the  moon as well -
sun, moon, both rolling across our ceiling.
Orange: - (a) the color of  passion 
but also (b) the color of rust. 
I prefer a - not b. Either way - orange -
the message is,  “Hey look at me!” 

© Andy Costello Reflections 2012


Quote for Today - November 2, 2012

"The majority of painters, because they aren't colorists, do not see yellow, orange or sulphur in the South (of France) and they call a painter mad if he sees with eyes other than theirs."

Vincent van Gogh, The Night Cafe, 1888, in Yale University

Thursday, November 1, 2012



The title of my homily for All Saints Day is, “Life After Death? It Makes a Difference.” 

This might sound like a homily for tomorrow: All Souls Day - because I address the question of life after death - which is at the heart of All Souls Day.

There are three kinds of people: those who believe in life after death; those who don’t believe there is life after death; and those who are so so, either or - or don’t know for sure - or don't think about it that often.

It makes a difference in one’s attitudes, one’s psyche, one’s behavior, one’s thoughts and feelings for here and now depending on what we believe about whether there is life after death or what have you?

Which of the 3 categories do you put yourself into? I don’t know about you - but I pause before answering that question.

Scientifically I don’t know. Physically I don’t know. My skin is already flaking a bit at times. I have my questions and my doubts. I smile, because if there is nothing after this life, then I’ll never know.

However, if there is life, I will enter into eternity as someone who is in the group of those who believe by faith in life after death.

Now I can’t prove there is life after death - but I can know there is life after death - by faith.

There are philosophers and theologians and writers who hold that there is  life after death. They say things like:  “We find believe in life after death in all cultures, therefore if it’s a human instinct, therefore there has to be life after death.”

Mark Link in his Homily Series gives this example: “Years ago Peter Berger wrote a best-selling book called, A Rumor of Angels. In the book, Berger speaks of ‘signals of transcendence.’ A signal of transcendence is something in this life that points to something beyond this life.  One of these signals of transcendence is the hunger in this life that points for something more than this world can offer.”

We can go there. That can help.  I find myself simply going to the gift of faith that I have received from my mom and dad and parish and Church and say, “I believe in eternal life with God.”

I make that leap of faith. And I’m assuming that God will catch me when I make that jump.  The image I like to use is this. It’s winter. It has snowed. The city sidewalks are  mushy black  and white snow and ice. I come to end of the sidewalk - so as to step down and cross the street. But there is melting water and snow and ice right there at that curb - and if I want to cross the street I have to make a leap - and hope I don’t land on ice and fall on my butt. Faith is coming to that point - but it’s night - and we don’t know how far away that street is across over  the melting ice, water, slush and snow at that corner.

I have to believe I’m going to make it. Faith is the belief that God is out there in the dark and he’s going to catch me when I jump into and across  dark slushy, icy, cold, unknown on the other side death.


A central belief - a central teaching - for the Christian is that there is life after death - and Jesus’ is the key - the other side. We believe that Jesus rose from the dead. In fact, as St. Paul puts it, if Christ didn’t rise from the dead, we Christians are a bunch of fools because we base everything on that.

The Creed till last Advent had “We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God.... We look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.”

After last First Sunday of Advent the wording was changed from “We” to “I” - to get it exactly like the Latin, “Credo” “I believe”. I prefer the “we” because we’re all in this together. However, the benefit of the “I” as in “I believe” and “Credo” is that each of us has to face these basic faith beliefs - and speak up for me, myself and I.

So today for All Saints Day I’m asking the question: “Life After Death? It Makes a Difference.”

For starters I believe by faith that Jesus Christ rose from the dead and is living again after he died on the cross. Jesus is the key. That’s the core or our faith in life after death.

That goes for Christians.  Catholic Christians add all those who have died and are with the God. Today’s first reading from the Book of Revelation give numbers - 144,000 and then the great multitude that can’t be counted - and that’s the group I hope I’m going to be marching into heaven with.

Some Christians think something is wrong with the Catholic tradition and the Catholic belief in saints with a small “s” and a capital “S”. I haven’t talked to many of them on this. I sense they think we bypass Jesus and go to Mary and / or Saints.

We’ve all seen people come into Mass - or into church - and from all appearances bypass Jesus and go to the picture of Mary or a statue or picture of a Saint - and then walk out.  I’ve learned to say to myself, “It’s none of my business. I don’t know what’s going on in the mind of this person. I don’t know their story.”

Moreover - because of the Catholic Tradition of Mary and the Saints - I think having saints - known and unknown - as part of our faith life is wonderful. Their example - their living out the gospels - their prayers for us - hopefully all help.

Some of these saints - small “s” and capital “S” we know by name - St. Paul and St. Francis of Assisi - St. Catherine of Siena and St. Teresa of Avila - as well as grandparents - neighbors - friends - who were all around wonderful - generous - giving folks.


The title of my homily is, “Life After Death? It Makes a Difference.”

In other words: “Would my life be any different if I thought this life was it - and when I die, I die for good - for ever.”

In other words: “Does a belief in a Heaven and a Hell after this life make a difference in how I live this life now?"  Or another way of asking this same question is to read Matthew 25: 31-46 - The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats - and Luke 16-19-31 - The Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Then  ask, “Do these 2 parables make a difference in how I live my life here because both have implications for my hereafter?”

P.S. If this homily didn’t make any sense or didn’t grab you, I hope the following will grab you. I received an e-mail from my sister Peggy who is a nun. She simply said, “Happy All Saints Day. I said a prayer to my two favorite saints for you today: Mom and Dad.”


Engraving on top: Dante Among the Slothful, Gustave Dore, c. 1868


Grapes glisten with light 
every time the sun roams across
its naked purple skin. Purple grapes
just love to hang around - cleavage -
clinging to each other at a party -
clinking glasses, laughing, spending
an evening together on the vine.
We all have our glory days.
We all know that the past, the present, 
isn't going to last. The reckoning
is coming. Harvest is on the horizon.
Grapes became silent - when picked - 
when packed in crates - 
when dumped - when crushed 
and pressed - and then 
the purple juice gradually 
becomes wine  - becomes joy -
and then sometimes people 
with purple lips and purple passions 
drink too much and then comes the
harvest - the regret of the night before - 
silence. Sometimes purple stains
remain - especially those that last
from one’s past on white gowns,
white shirts and white blouses.

© Andy Costello, Reflections, 2012


Quote for Today - November 1,  2012

"He wrapped himself in quotations - as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of emperors.” 

Rudyard Kipling [1865-1936], Many Inventions [1893]. The Finest Story in the World

Painting on top: Deep Purple Mist by Ruth Palmer

Wednesday, October 31, 2012


Yellow: every sunrise
screams “Hello! It’s a new day."
But let’s be honest now,
yellow is not the first color
the kid picks when opening
a box of crayons or Magic Markers.
First choice: it’s red - bright red.
Or it’s blue - bright blue.
Okay, but what about Bananas -
neat yellow bananas in a bunch?
Answer: They are so common place  -
the choice of monkeys and folks still in
pajamas and bathrobes eating breakfast.  
So too butter, it’s there. It’s on the table,
but it doesn’t get noticed unless there’s
fresh corn on the cob. Ooops!
Well, that’s an exception
when it comes to things yellow.
So, in general, yellow is an unnoticed fellow.
Ooops! Another ooops: unless yellow
is the color of sashaying hair,
and she’s young, slim, a blond floating
into the room. Then ….

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2012

Photograph on top: Crossing the Road by David Librach

Quote for Today  October 31,  2012

"Coldly, sadly descends
The Autumn evening. The field
Strewn with its dank yellow drifts
Of withered leaves, and the elms
Fade into dimness apace,
Silent; hardly a shout
From a few boys late at their play."

Matthew Arnold [1822-1888], Rugby Chapel [1867], stanza 1

Abstract painting on top: Fantasy in Yellow by Sessarego

Tuesday, October 30, 2012



The title of my homily for this 30th Tuesday in Ordinary Time  is, “Marriage: Communication, Cooperation and Compromise.”

Some people get nervous or they just don't like today's first reading from Ephesians 5: 21-33. The fact that the Lectionary offers a compromise shorter version - Ephesians 5: 2a, 25-32 indicates to me that someone is aware of possible "Uh oh's!"  I sense that the following two sentences with the word "subordinate" in them - are the issue. "Wives should be subordinate to their husbands as to the Lord." That's the first sentence. The next is, "As the Church is subordinate to Christ, so wives should be subordinate to their husbands in everything."  In the meanwhile, the challenges in the text to husbands to reverence and love their wives might be lost in the hub bub.


I think any couple if they are wise should communicate who’s stronger where and when and who has this talent and who has that talent. I’ve heard enough talks and read enough articles on marriage to know that some couples marry for this very reason. One is better with organization and one is better with people skills. One is better with money and the other is better with mechanics. Or what have you.

If couples don’t realize their gifts and possible disasters in themselves as well as in the other and then communicate their similarities and differences they are crazy. These can be the kind of stuff that sometimes causes problems. It can also cause laughter and growth and help a couple to become a great team.


After the communication comes the action steps of working things out. These are the calls for cooperation and compromise.

Then a couple needs to communicate how they are doing and how they are working together - giving and taking - and on and on and on.


I once saw a program on TV about monkeys. I hope this doesn’t end up as a felt insult - like the word “subordinate” is sometimes taken. The example is something I think about at times when I’m with folks.

The documentary or whatever it is - I saw this a long time ago - went like this. Some experimenters asked if in every group of monkeys there was a dominant monkey. They studied various groups of monkeys as part of this experimentation. Sure enough - at least for the experimenters - they determined who the dominant monkey in a group was. Then they asked if in a group of all female monkeys if one of the monkeys was the dominant female. Sure enough they said so and so was the dominant monkey. They noticed the dominating traces and behaviors. In all this they noticed that the strongest monkey stood with the straightest back. She was the one who was the “boss”.

Next they took a dominant female monkey and put her into another female group - one in which they also knew who was the dominant female monkey. They studied what happened. One of the two would dominate the other and if the new gal took over, the former dominant female monkey would slouch her shoulders more.

The word “slouch” grabbed me because I tend to slouch. I know this because a lot of people have said to me, “Straighten up!”

If I was married my wife would be the boss. Smile. But that wasn’t the lesson I learned from the monkeys.

What I learned was to look for who is the boss in different  groupings.

I learned to look for signs of power struggles in conversations and projects.  

I learned to assume that in every group and every marriage and every family and every relationship and every parish and every group, there is struggle going on.

I assume that if someone had a camera and studied us and then we looked at the film and the study we would get an earful and eyeful.  

I assume that In every person there is the stuff we bring from our parents and our family. I assume that our place in our family order - oldest - youngest - middle - only - what have you - we bring into the classroom, into our marriage and into our work place.

I assume that Ephesians 5: 21 to 33 - as well as Colossians 3:18-19 - comes out of customs and culture of the Mediterranean Basin in the First Century - and that background can be found today as well as different ways for wives and husbands to work and function together.  

I also assume that people take the Bible literally - and/or use it not to communicate, but to dominate.

I have found in talking to couples that sometimes they have “aha” or “epiphany” moments when I ask them to talk about how their moms and dads argued - communicated - worked together - and what have you.

I love the saying, “If you want to change someone you have to change their grandmother.”


So for peace and growth, one has to learn from life - from monkeys and parents and grandparents and from each other. There is call for communication and compromise and cooperation.

Human beings can learn. Human beings can grow. Human beings can learn new tricks. Human beings can change. People need to talk to each other about what they see and what their questions are.

Today’s gospel has two images of growth and change. One is male - maybe - the man planting the seed in a garden. The other is female -maybe - a woman making bread.

I assume humor helps. I assume we have the choice to be like the Three Wise Monkeys and “See No Evil”, “Hear No Evil”, and “Speak No Evil.” Or we can communicate - cooperate - and compromise - with each other. 

Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Human beings can evolve.


I found the picture on top on Google. It was entitled: 3 Monkeys on the Beach in Barcelona. I was there but didn't see these monkeys.


Black - the beautiful black curtains
of each Dark Night …. Thank You God.
Black night - helping me to see the stars
that I’m missing in the daylight sky ….
Wait! Watch! When it comes to black 
there’s more - much, much more.
Black - a shining - glistening
grand piano - with black and white keys -
sharps and flats - and half steps
in between  - all 12 notes -
the music only works when
sounding and resounding
with all the keys intermingling ….
Black - wait, there's more!
Black marble - stones and skin ….
Black  - the deep lakes and rivers ....
Black - ink - a zillion, trillion, million letters
arranged on white paper  - becoming
books, newspapers, magazines
telling, forming and informing the world
how to be together to announce news
and poetry and words for the songs.
Black -  too often I’m not noticing you
because these too words get in the way.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2012


"The years like great black oxen
          tread the world,
And God the herdsman
          goads them on behind,
And I am broken

          by their passing feet."

William Butler Yeats [1865-1939], The Countess Cathleen [1892], last lines.

Painting on top: Abstract Painting [1963] by Ad Reinhardt [1913-1967]

Monday, October 29, 2012



The title of my homily for this 30th Monday in Ordinary Time is, “How Long Is This Pain Going to Last?”

This is one of life’s questions. Each of us asks it in different forms when we have to deal with a pain or a problem. It could be in our body or in our family or what have you.


It’s the though that hit me when I read today’s gospel. What grabbed me was Luke telling us that the lady in the story was suffering for 18 years. She had a crippling spirit. It  bent her over. I’m sure we have all seen people with bone problems like that - and we wonder, “How long has she or he had this struggle?”

If you know the life of St. Alphonsus, you know he had crippling arthritis and curvature of his spine at the end of his life - and the pain was excruciating especially in being confined to a wheelchair.

Did he ask God the question: “How long is this pain going to last?”

I began thinking about that number: 18 - for the lady in the gospels. That’s an interesting specific.

Next I began to wonder about those other gospel stories about other folks when the text gives the exact number of years the person has had a health problem.

In the 5th chapter of John  - the man at the pool - he was sick for 38 years.

In Matthew 9:20 the woman with the blood problems had her problems for 12 years.

In Mark 9:22 the boy with the epilepsy or whatever it is that he had, his father tells Jesus this has been happening since he was a child.

If Jesus was basing his story about the Prodigal Son on a real story, how long was the Prodigal Son away from home? How long was it before the older brother came in and welcomed his younger brother home?

What about the blind, the lame and the deaf? What about the man with the withered hand? What about those with leprosy? What about all those other people Jesus healed and Jesus saw. Did they all ask that human question: “How long is this pain going to last?”

Us: how many years have we had the problems we have. Anger, abuse, lust, greed, addictions, alcoholism in the family?  How many years?

Then there is dementia, cancer, Alzheimer’s, etc. etc. etc.

How do we do with our lifetime or temporary sufferings, struggles or what have you.


It all depends. You have to have been there.

In yesterday’s New York Times Book Review  - Sunday October 28, 2012 - John Grisham was interviewed. One of the questions asked was: “What was the last truly great book you read?”  Grisham's answer: “The word ‘great’ gets tossed around too easily. The last book that kept me completely engrossed while delivering a powerful story was ‘Life After Death’ by Damien Echols.  He spent 18 years on death row in Arkansas for crimes he didn’t commit, and was released last year. Though he’s innocent, the state refuses to exonerate him.”

When I read the number 18 in today’s gospel, I remembered reading that same number of 18 years in that comment by John Grisham in yesterday’s New York Times Book Review. How did that fellow deal with life those 18 years? Would I be able to endure that?    


I don’t  know how I would do in circumstances I am not in.  All I know is how I have death with pain and how I brought what I going through - what was bending me out of shape - and how I prayed to Jesus in those moments - through those years. Amen.           


Old bricks - the bark of trees - tossed
coffee - old cigars -  hats, - dirt - leather
jackets - dog deposits - wooden doors,
leaves, lots of brown  leaves on the ground -
all around town - almost into November,
one of those colding months - the time
to get things done before the long of winter.
Thank God for Halloween, Thanksgiving,
Christmas lights - all those  bright colors
that might not be noticed if things
weren’t all so brown. Background brown:
unnoticed - underneath everything.
Brown:  down to earth brown - that keeps
me aware of where I have come from
and where I’m headed. Earth. Home! Hope.
Lord, there better be resurrection after this
or I’ll be screaming from every cemetery,
“Genesis me. Easter me. Spring me.
I need to soar here and hereafter.

© Andy Costello Reflections 2012

Quote for Today - October 29, 2012

"Afoot and light-hearted 
           I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me 
           leading wherever I choose."

Walt Whitman [1819-1892], Song of the Open Road, I, 

Painting on top: Mountain Pass by Julia Collard

Sunday, October 28, 2012



The title of my homily is, “Coming To Church - Coming To A Vision Center.”

With the number of Catholics who come to church in the 30 percentile, I’ve been asking myself, “Why would someone come to church?”

Answers … reasons: We always come to church. It’s a chance to thank God with others for blessings. It’s a moment to ask for help. Obligation. It’s the law. To stay out of sin. To give God the glory - not myself. I want to pray and sing and worship with others. I don’t like singing - so I go to the 7 AM Sunday morning Mass if possible - but I still want to go to church. I want to get to heaven and I believe the Mass helps. I would like some insights and some scripture. I need God in my life and this is one way that helps. I need Holy Communion - the Bread of Life - because Jesus is the center of my life. I need him to bring me into communion with God the Father and the Holy Spirit and all others.

With the number of Catholics who come to church in the 30 percentile, we better ask, “Why have so many dropped out?”

Answers … reasons: boredom. Loss of faith. The priest abuse. I was yelled at by a church person. Poor sermons. Too busy. Work. A divorce. A rejection. The Church left me.  Those who go to church are hypocrites. Politics.  My needs weren’t being met. I don’t know. I just slowly dropped out.

Then there are the somewhats and some timers. Some stay Catholic and show up at Christmas and Easter - funerals, weddings, first communions, baptisms, confirmations, once a monthers - now and theners. When asked their religion on a form at the hospital or what have you, they will always put down, “Catholic”. Some join other Christian groups. Some become Unitarians or Buddhists or sleep in on Sunday mornings or play golf or read The New York Times - Sunday Edition, especially doing the cross word puzzle with a good cup of  coffee or try this or that or what have you.

I’m here because I want to be here. I’m here because I want to worship with you as well as the whole church around the world this Sabbath. I’m here because I’ve been given the gift of faith. I’m here because my name is on the list for this 8:30 AM Mass.

Why are you here at Mass today?


A person could hear today’s first reading from Jeremiah and say, “I’m here because coming to church helps me to travel on level roads - and as a result I stumble less - and God leads me to brooks of water - and satisfies my deepest thirsts.”

A person could hear today’s second reading from Hebrews and say, “I come to church because Jesus is my high priest - Jesus who knows weakness and the cross - and I too am called with everyone here by our baptism to be a priest along with Christ the High Priest and worship God Our Father together.”

A person could hear today’s gospel and say, “I too am blind and I want to see.”  In fact that’s about to be the main thrust of this sermon.


The title of my homily is, “Coming To Church - Coming To A Vision Center.”

Obviously as priest I’ve thought about Mass over and over and over again. I know of priests who lost their faith. I know of priests who have given up. Like you I need to pray and ask Christ to be my light and my salvation.

About 5 years ago I decided to write a book on the Mass. I finished it in about a year. It’s  303 pages typed - 14 pica - single space. It has  short paragraphs - short chapters. There 107 of them. It gave me more clarity in being a priest and in celebrating Mass. I sent it to 4 different publishers - and received 4 rejection letters. I’ve been there with rejection letters before. One of my books received a dozen rejection slips - and 13 was my lucky number.

People told me to self publish. I don’t want to do that - because one then has to self push - and all that. So that book is sitting there - gathering dust. Since then I have lined up 16 books - which I get to - not enough - but I read and reflect on them. It’s now almost 4 years later and my New Year’s Resolution for 2013 is to redo that book and try once again. I’m interested in seeing how my mind has changed and grown and reconsidered stuff about the Mass in the last 4 years. Since then we have the New Roman Missal and if I was really on the board I would have been ready with my book to time it with that push. However, I didn’t understand at the time what this new translation is about - and this Advent will be 1 year with it. I have some thoughts about that and will incorporate them into the redo - and that might be one more reason for rejection slips.

If you are listening, thank you for this opportunity for me to reconsider my thoughts about that book and the Mass.

I challenge you to rethink and reconsider why you come to Mass - what this 1 hour or 55 minutes means to you. I ask you to rethink and reconsider how you have grown through the years in your appreciation and your questions and your answers about the Mass.


I was talking with someone just yesterday about the Mass and the topic was just this: why do people come to Mass?

The answers we came up with were very simple. I come to thank God. I come to ask for help. I come to say I’m sorry for miscues and mistakes from last week. I come here to do this with my family and my parish.

This morning I read today’s readings with the prayer for a homily idea for this Mass.

The gospel answers my question very clearly.

The main character in today’s gospel is Bartimaeus. He screams out to Jesus, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

The crowd tells him to shut up.

He screamed even louder, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

Jesus stops and says, “Call him!”

The blind man hears some people say to him, “Take courage; Jesus is calling you.”

The blind man throws aside he cloak and comes to Jesus.

Jesus says to him, “What do you want me to do for you?”

The blind man replies, “Master, I want to see!”

There it is: coming to church - coming to Jesus.

We come here to scream.

I always like to say, “The Church is a Crying Room.” That’s the title of Chapter 29 of my book on the Mass.

We come here to cry out to Jesus, “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me.”

We come here to hear Jesus say to us, “What do you want me to do for you?”

We come here to say to Jesus, “I want to see!”

When I redo my book I’ll have another chapter or put in it: The Church as a Vision Center.

We come here to have our vision improved. That’s one motive - that’s one reason - for coming to church. We come here for another insight into what life is all about.

We know people at work, we know neighbors, we know priests, we know family members, whom we consider deaf, dumb and blind. I don’t know if the following is true - but I’ll wonder about if it is. “Is the number one inner complaint that everyone in the world has: others don’t see something the way we see something?”

So we call them blind - as well as other less polite words.

Notice the words in today’s gospel has the pronoun “I” - not “he” or “she” or “they”.

Have pity on me - and Jesus help me to see.

If there is anything Jesus tries to do is to get us to see better - to see our neighbor on the road - to see our sister and brother and to forgive them - because they don’t know what they are doing. He constantly is frustrated with the Pharisees who were blind - wanting people to see them as the holy ones - but Jesus could see through their facades and he said - underneath was death and decay.


The title of my homily is, “Coming To Church - Coming To A Vision Center.”

I said I’ve reflected a lot on the Mass and plan to do a lot more - till death do me part.

I’m challenging you to reflect upon your inner motives and reasons for being here - to see where you have come from - and I challenge you to scream out to Jesus - the High Priest - whom we heard about in today’s second reading - to Jesus who walks our roads as we heard in today’s gospel - and scream out to him that you want to see more and more why we are here in church - why we are here in this area of the world - and why we have the gift of life. Amen. 


A gray wolf of a day,
late October - nearly
November - damp,
keeping us indoors -
as if a pack of gray wolves
were out there  about
to attack and jump on us -
gray - not the color of fear -
but the after effect color
of our soul when
we’re in dead air,
hiding, unsure of our next -
not pleased with our past -
malaise - tired of being stuck
inside ourselves -
longing for a rainbow
or at least a light sliding through
a silent surprise opening
in the Eastern sky.

© Andy Costello, Reflections 2012

Quote for Today - October 28, 2012

"Dear friend, all theory is gray,
And green the golden tree of life."

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [1749-1832], in Mephistopheles and the Student.

Painting on top: "Red Horizon"  by BenWill