I knew my affection for the Philippines was equally as telling: a democracy on paper, apparently well ordered, regularly subverted by irrational chaos. A place where I'd felt instantly at home.

I'm completely aware of Matisse and what he said, that painters must begin by cutting out their tongues.

I read through the book of Matthew this evening. I was up all night. I couldn’t stop reading so I read through Mark. This Jesus of yours is either a madman or the Son of God. Somewhere in the middle of Mark I realized He was the Son of God.

But the future lay open, a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities with a small quick heartbeat, delicate and impatient

Written By Jonathan Safran Foer

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