I can finally rest.

I can lay down the need to impress with a sigh. I rest in the silence of your presence.

Your love is the curtain behind me as I strut across the stage of life.

Whether the audiences laughs at me is of little consequence when I know you are there. I can always step back and lose myself in the curtain of your love.

According to Plutarch, Horus was nothing like Jesus. I’ll take his word for it.

According to Google: “One thousand volumes, 1,200 pages each — more than one